I am not meant to be a cyclist.

I do not like bugs in my eyes or my teeth.

I do not like riding down hills without having my brakes on.

I do not like riding up hills. Period.

I do not like sharing space with joggers wearing headphones who remain oblivious to my horn tooting and “On your left” shouting.

But it is a feeling of accomplishment to have exceeded 20 mph for the first time while actually pedaling (down a hill, but in control) and to have gone out more than 10 miles and to have kept up a speed of 11.3ish mph. (I could have given you a more accurate figure if I’d remembered to look at my speedometer before I carried the bike down the stairs to the Burrow. The speedometer likes to believe we are going 75.9 mph when we do that so always tacks on a mile or so to my rides after the fact.)

So I suppose that while I wasn’t meant to be a cyclist, I really enjoy doing it just a little on the side.

(But, shhhh! don’t tell Rudi. He’ll want to take me on more hills!)