In honor of swimsuit season, I've decided to become a biker.


I did this last year, found out that biking was much more enjoyable to me than running. I'm a slow runner, with a short attention span. The scenery doesn't change fast enough for me. Biking, however, I get to see a lot more and cover a greater distance in the same amount of time, even if it's probably not going to help me be all goddess-like in a swimsuit faster. It might not do as much for the lovely layer of winter warmth hiding what really are a set of six-pack abs(ha!), but I will have excellent, excellent legs.

In fact, I feel like it's already making a difference. This may be naive of me, since I've only biked about five times, but if you're some physical therapist person and you know I couldn't have possibly noticed a change, don't you dare burst my bubble. I have to at least pretend I see a difference or I won't keep biking. But my calves really do seem to look a little nicer. They're a bit tanner too, which always helps.

I usually go for my ride between nine and ten in the morning, and I'm starting to notice some regulars who are always out at that time. One nice older lady dressed in one of those jean jackets with like birdhouses sewed on and penny loafers, riding a bike with a regular seat with the peddles parallel to the seat, man in his sixties(?) riding a normal red and yellow bike, both of them moving at a slow but steady pace. A guy who always drives by on his motorcycle. And this one tall, skinny guy.

This tall, skinny guy is, well...I think he's a creeper. I have a mind that always creates the worst possible scenarios and then automatically tries to deny that scenario for something much more favorable. Like, he was walking at ten today, and then again at six thirty when I went for another bike ride. What normal man in his thirties has a job that allows him to walk at those times? And when he sees me, he turns his head and slowly smiles and nods or waves. In a "Hi, I could potentially be a stalker" way. And he wears...well, slightly grungy clothes. All these things make me leary of him. But then my brain automatically goes, well, he could work a wacky night shift that's 11-7 or something. And he could sleep from like, 11 to 6 during the day. Or maybe he works 11-7 during the day and he got off early today or just had the whole day off. And, maybe when he's walking, he's just really relaxed and leisurely, so he moves slowly. And hey, when people are just out for a stroll, they're not going to wear their super shnazzy clothes, now are they? Now are they?!

In this particular situation, however, my brain's first reasoning won out, and I just might let the boyfriend buy me pepper spray. Even though when he first suggested it I told him not to because I'd never carry it, and it'd wind up in some junk drawer, and he'd find it there one day and wind up being all hurt because I wasn't taking my safety seriously. I'm a pretty independent girl, but sometimes, you know, having a little pepper spray might not be a bad thing...

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