really raring to go.

Today is delicious. The weather in Philly is absolutely perfect- sunny, 84 degrees. gentle breezes, no humidity. Earlier I found myself power-grading and reading in Rittenhouse Square, drunk on sunshine and iced coffee. It made me happy to realize that at 26 I am still doing the thing I prized most during the summers of my youth-- reading outside. To be able to do that in the middle of a Friday afternoon is bliss. It is exactly what I want my life to be.


I'm reading Erica Jong's classic Fear of Flying (because why haven't I read it already?). There are so many poignant and pithy passages, but this one sums up how I feel today:

"...I'm really happy with my work for the moment and I don't want any more fulfillment just now. It took me years to learn to sit at my desk for more than two minutes at a time, to put up with the solitude and the terror of failure, and the godawful silence and the white paper. And now that I can take it... now that I can finally do it... I'm really raring to go. I don't want anything to interfere right now. Jesus Christ! It took me so long to get to this point."

Jesus Christ! It took me so long to get to this point.

sunday routine.

One of my favorite things about Sunday is the articles each week in the NYT series Sunday Routine. They ask an interesting person what they do on Sundays. I think I find this so fascinating because for six or seven years my Mormon Sundays were an miserly and unrestful mix of obligations- meetings, worship, and dropping in on family. I was shocked at how much more "me" time I had when I left Mormonism. I thought I would take a stab at my own Sunday Routine- and I'd love to know yours as well.


Melanie, 26, is a graduate student pursuing a PhD in American history. A resident of South Philly, she has lived in Philadelphia for seventeen months.


COFFEE, INTERNET I like to wake up naturally on the weekends since I don't often have plans- usually around 9:30 or 11. I drink coffee and catch up on my favorite Sunday internet features- Postsecret, Sunday Routine, occasionally the weddings section. I stay up on blogs and the Fashion and Politics sections during the week, so I like to have Sunday treats to look forward too. I like to keep it ultra casual- t-shirts, sweatshirts, and raggedy jeans I would never wear out during the week.


WHAT'S FOR BREAKFAST In recent months I've been captivated by pancakes, so sometimes I'll make those for my roommate and I. Otherwise it's cereal or toast. In the summer I go out to brunch more often. Today I was lucky, I went with girlfriends to Local 44 in West Philly. We had their signature beer-mosas and I had a breakfast BLT with the most good quality bacon I've ever seen on a sandwich anywhere, ever.


TAKING IT EASY Some Sundays I like to take care of business- maybe laundry or a trip on the bike to Target. After brunch today, a friend and I hit up Metropolitan Bakery and walked through still snowy Rittenhouse Square, one of my favorite Philly spots.  Like any day, I have to work, but not too soon. I picked up a fruit and oat bar to enjoy while I'm reading later.


GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS Sometime in the mid-afternoon I get down to work. Today I have to go up to school to get some books out of my office. I left them there on purpose because the forecast was calling for sun and I really, really need to get a bike ride in after all this snow. But again- nothing too quick. I'm going to drink some more coffee before I make my way out of the house. I think I might stop by H&M on the way to school-- I am getting an itch for Spring fashion. Like everyone here, winter has worn me out.


ACTUALLY WORKING I'm studying for my comprehensive exams this semester, so I'm trying to put away five books a day. It's insane- I usually get through three books and feel fine, but the extra two is a stretch. Working through the lists is really satisfying, even though I just started really reading last Wednesday. I have class tomorrow as well, so there's reading for that. There are no days off between now and May.


KEEPING IT REAL Sundays are a nice time to relax and prepare for the week. And there's always time for a cocktail in the evening when it's time to wind down. Watching a movie- we've been into Almodovar's tragedies lately- and chipping away at an embroidery project is a nice way to wrap up the day.

in praise of hibernation.

I was inspired by these thoughts in a recent post by Miss Sarah:

"In these winter months my attitude towards transportation is much more defensive than it is offensive. The application of some perspective on moderation suits me very well, and since I don't particularly prefer driving, I only do it when I must. One can embark on the quest for sustainable transportation practice in a variety of ways. I like consciousness and choice. And sometimes I choose not to go out at all as a way to save a car trip.

Instead, we have fun in our neighbourhood doing hibernation-like things instead of battling the roads. Watching movies. Having brunch. Walking the dog on a sunny afternoon. Spending time building mega blocks towers with Dexter. Ordinary stuff that we should be careful not to take for granted."

The last month has probably been the least bikey of the seventeen I have lived in Philly. Between my trips to Boston and Salt Lake, weather, and illness, I have had a handful of bicycle commutes into school and only a few opportunities for bike errands. Although the lack of exercise (with its attendant mental health benefits) has been rough, I am fortunate on a number of fronts:

-I live in a neighborhood with a number of amenities in walking distance, including great bars, a grocery store, a liquor store, and a number of friends (and not to mention, all of Center City).

-I live several blocks away from a subway line that takes me directly to school and work. While it's not my favorite way to travel, I appreciate being warm and dry. I have biked a lot less this winter because I live on a direct public transportation route, but I have also been a lot happier not showing up on campus completely soaked and miserable.

-I have a roommate. Living with someone does much to temper cabin fever. We've gone on walking excursions in the snow (the hamburgers / Apple Store / liquor cabinet restock adventure was a favorite). We've enjoyed plenty of cocktails at home watching foreign films, RuPaul Drag Race, and 30 Rock. Cooking projects abounded. And perhaps best of all-- he went out for groceries when a cold completely knocked me down. A good roommate is far more useful than a car!

So let me just add an amen to Miss Sarah- hibernation in the winter is the way to go, whether underground or at home. Location is key-- living in an urban neighborhood is a critical component in maintaining a sustainable, car-free lifestyle year round. Bikes are a part of it-- a key part of it during most times of the year- but it's nice that when weather makes biking inconvenient, dangerous, or impossible to have a number of ways of getting around and living a comfortable life.

weeks of hibernation meant a momentous and hoarder-like trip Trader Joe's. Putting those Walds to work!

what is the matter with pennsylvania?

Nothing like a little indulgent historical writing for you. I love that in 1935 you could publish an incredulous essay on your state's mediocre national political contributions. Russ uses the phrase "What is the matter with Pennsylvania?" so many times that it merits a bumper sticker.

"Pennsylvania has become used to pulling the chestnuts out of the fire for others, by throwing its huge electoral vote for the Presidential candidate from some other state. Like a good-natured muzhik, it does all the work and gets none of the credit. One second-rate President, one Vice-President who is often not even mentioned in our history books, two or three well-known Congressmen, not one Chief Justice, a fair showing in several cabinet positions and a good record in one or two others, a string of political bosses whose only reputation comes from machine politics and corruption, an imperviousness to reform, and until recently, a total lack of pride (perhaps justified) in the state's contributions to history? In fine, a century and a half of utter futility. What price glory!"

William A. Russ Jr, "What is the matter with Pennsylvania?" Pennsylvania History  2, No. 1 (January, 1935), pp. 17-35. Accessed on JStor today.

For more on Pennsylvania political culture, check out this episode of This American Life from October 2008.

i'm still here.

At the end of last month, I found myself with a doubled commute.  My new job and school year began.  Overnight, I acquired an office, a demanding schedule, and sixty people whom I call "my students."  The transition was rough. I quickly came in contact with my own limitations as a student and teacher, as well as the limited number of possible North / South routes through Center City.  4.7 each miles, these days.

But now that I've found my legs and the heat has abated, I'm back to a point of reflection on my rides.  I've started worshipping at that bike church I used to attend.  Relaxed by now-familiar routes and the timing of the traffic signals (I always get to rest at Spring Garden), I can breath deeply and work through the daily puzzles of my life, putting them together in my mind to find clarity.

One such problem that's emerged lately was what to make of a particular recent outcome, a termination of sorts. I had strategized, when it happened, to "remain selfless, cold, and composed." When I found myself failing at this, in, you know, a mature internalized way, I asked myself, rolling along, what to make of it. And then it hits me, powerfully, so hard that I forgot traffic and potholes and the city's glittery pervasive coating of broken glass.

This doesn't make a difference in my long-term happiness.

Sure, I was a little sad in the moment.  But it was temporary, fleeting. So many of the things that I've mourned in fall's past didn't have a lasting impact on my long-term happiness. Things that hurt-- well, they did hurt-- but they didn't constrain my ability to be happy.  I pushed forward, plowed through, and ran over these miseries and seized happiness. I built myself a life.

It came in a flood, these beautiful flutters of memory of the moments that have made a difference in my long-term happiness-- the moment I put my application in the mail for my Masters, the rush of buying a big red bike, the series of mouse clicks that have purchased plane tickets for home and adventure. Taking a job at a restaurant where I learned to cook, making a drive to Park City to find that I really did want to come to Philly. These memories washed away the problems, and suddenly, I found myself twenty-six years old, settled, on my way to a job I really love, where I get to use my talents, where being who I am fills the qualifications.

And then I felt my hands grip my brakes, heard the clackity hymnody of the folding bike's noisy chain, and stopped at the stop light, satisfied. And, lucky me, I still had three and a half more miles to go.

lgrab summer games, learning experiences, part 1.

I found this part of the Summer Games a bit easier to complete- I tend towards more functional, lone-wolf cycling rather than social cycling.  Here's a roundup of some of the things I've been up to lately...

Carry a load on your bike — groceries, etc.

This is somewhat standard procedure for me. For sake of the challenge, I took the Old Dutch Treat to Ikea and Target.  It's a little over 6 miles each way-- about as far as I ever get from my house in Philly.  It's kind of grueling with a load on such a heavy bike, but fortunately there are bike lanes the whole way.  I made a loop around the city, starting with a long cruise along the Delaware river and ending on the Schuylkill River, where there's a lovely bike trail by the Art Museum and Fairmount Waterworks.

Today I went to the Post Office to pick up a GLORIOUS package that my mom sent me from Japan. I liked that it also functioned as a seat back.  The thing I like best about hauling a load like this is that it's an excuse to ride really, really slow. 

Decorate your bike

While in the big box retailer area where Ikea is located, I hit up a dollar store and bought a lei.  It makes me smile every time I look at it.  All my non-bikey friends have complemented me on its charms. Cheap thrills!

Perform a maintenance task — big or small!

You can see from the pictures above that I'm missing a skirt guard.  The clip that holds the guard to the rack came off a while ago, and eventually the skirt guard went rogue and came off too.  Today I used one of my favorite office supplies- the binder clip- and some dental floss to help anchor the skirt guard to the rack. We'll see how long that lasts.  

Next up... a very belated post about a bicycle test ride.

lgrab summer games, social cycling challenge.

I'm a little late to the Let's Go Ride A Bike Summer Games-- but this is my official contribution: 
I had a lovely chat with a lovely lady cyclist on May 26th.  It was about 12:45pm and we were headed southbound at 12th and Spring Garden (kind of a wackjob intersection with a long light and the end of the bike lane in a spot that really needs the bike lane to continue).  She was helmet-less, dressed in a gauzy dress with dark hair and elegant tattoos-- a regular cycling apparition, the kind of person that I saw and thought, "Yes, she is one of us!"  She was riding a shiny emerald green bike-- and lo, she is herself from the Emerald City! We both agreed that Philly is divine for being car-free and riding bikes with just a few gears.  Lesson learned: I need to roll up to people and say, "I love your bike!" more often. Solidarity, sisters!


Ok, but here's the kicker to all this cycling sociality-- somebody left me a note on the Old Dutch Treat yesterday.  The preface to this is that usually I lock my helmet up with my bike so I don't have to be the girl in the bar / grocery store / restaurant / school slinging around an unweildy noggin-protector as I go about my business.  Anyways, it's been a while since somebody left me a bike note, so I was pretty excited to find this little note sitting in my helmet when I came out of Bob and Barbara's last night.


The outside read:

And then I opened it up:

I laughed out loud. I'm not sure whether it was a threat or a prophecy, but to me, it's classic Philly.  It definitely made me feel like, "Oh Philadelphia, social cycling is ON." Watch out folks!

The note proved useful though (beyond eliciting continuous smiles), as it was written on a flyer for a new used bookstore that I've heard good things about but had forgotten to check out.  Ride on...

nice rack.

Today the Old Dutch encountered some guerilla knitting at The Flying Saucer.  Classy and cozy, just right for an overcast day.

some thoughts on #30daysofbiking.

I was thinking about this post and how it would be good for the end of the month, and then I was like no.  Victory narratives are good, but you guys already know I'm a champ.*  What we need around here is some process.  Nitty gritty process.  


I got on the Thirty Days of Biking train at the end of the worst week of cycling I had ever had.  I had been riding the folding bike for a month straight, I had witnessed an awful, head-mangling crash, and then I had to ride a bajillion miles over the course of several subsequent soakedawfulrainy days.  


Biking.  I was so over it.  


So Thirty Days of Biking came at a moment when I wanted little to do with bikes.  Literally, April 1st was a beautiful day and as I was headed out to a meeting, I was pumping up my folding bike tires, got impatient, jerked a valve and gave myself a flat.  So. over. it.  


Later in the day I found out about Thirty Days of Biking, and determined I had to get the Old Dutch back together.  I had to see if I couldn't reclaim some of the joy.  Because this blog isn't called Church of the Granny Bike for nothing, and I'm the kind of person who stops going to church if there isn't any joy in it.


So.  I had some work to do.  And my roommate did too, because that chain wasn't going to put itself back on.**


My first ride was at night.  The first thing I noticed was that I had gotten faster from riding that teensy bike.  The second thing I noticed was the way the wind felt against my face.  Feeling the wind on my face again-- in that special way that one can only feel on a big steel upright bike***-- gave me hope.  I might be able to enjoy this.


It's been a gift getting reacquainted with the Old Dutch.  Going out on it every day has challenged me to actually leave me house every day.  Did you know I can be kind of a hermit?  To meet my daily ride quota (just one!), I've actually taken the bike out just for fun.  I've been more prompt about doing errands instead of combining trips.  I've wondered why I wasn't riding my bike every day.  I've given in to urges to make banana bread, urges to circle around Swann Fountain, and urges to ride around in short short dresses in spite of the wind.  


It wasn't until today-- after I put the seat up a bit, and after somebody had manhandled the ODT in an effort to have it for their very own-- that I felt truly reconnected.  Hightailing it out of the unfamiliar neighborhood, I couldn't help but feel like I was on parade, showing the whole damn world that the Old Dutch Treat [!] is my bike, and that smile on my face is there because I'm having so much fun riding it.  


It was perfect.




*this blog is all about meeeeeeeee!
**I am now an expert at this.
***yep. if it's not steel, you can't have that feeling. sorry.

at the very least, a case for wearing a helmet.

Last night, a friend and I were headed home after a very long day.  He hit a deep pothole and crashed his bike.  I was riding slowly behind and don't really remember seeing him crash, just feeling like I was moving in slow motion as I rode up to him, and tried in vain to enable my kickstand.  Exasperated, I threw the bike down and slowly pieced things together.  He was not getting up. He was unconscious.  He was breathing heavily.  A stream of blood spilled out of his head onto the pavement.  I felt one hundred percent helpless, alone, yelling his name in the yellowy streetlight and wishing he had been wearing a helmet. 


A car stopped and the couple in it called 911.  A cop came instantly and my friend came to.  An ambulance came and efficiently took him away on a backboard, leaving me to make frantic phone calls.  They asked me if I wanted to go in the ambulance, but what would become of our bikes?  I was completely bewildered. The cop waited in his car while I sat out on the curb, waiting with the bikes until my roommate came by bike to wait for a friend with a car to come.  We huddled together and tried to process the horror of the incident, and then we crammed the bikes and three people into a Ford Focus hatchback.  My roommate rode off to the hospital and I was taken home to be managed and consoled because, as you can imagine, I was pretty out of it.


It is an awful and surreal thing to be covered in the blood of someone you love.  


Even though my coat has been washed and all the stains came out, I still see the blood smeared in bright red relief against the sublime light gray cotton.  I was wearing my terror, my fear, the feeling that the moment had somehow transformed me.  


Feeling like la pieta there in the street, I couldn't help but wonder what it means to be washed in the blood of The Lamb.  






(my friend has come out battered but alright- still at the hospital, he has been treated for a concussion and facial fractures. we are pooling our dollars to buy the man a helmet.)

parking, trolleys, and sharing the road.

A couple of days ago, I had what I thought was an interesting experience on the trolley.  I've been riding the trolley quite a lot lately because of the snow.  Reading from the bottom up, here's how the incident unravelled (I live tweeted because that's what you do when trapped on a trolley, naturally):

As the snow storm unraveled, and I spent a damn lot of time at home, I found that my experience was not all that uncommon.  As it turns out, people tend to park too far away from the curb during snow storms all the time!  

Unfortunately the trolleys can't go around.

(yesterday, 3:00pm)

Unfortunately people living on trolley streets have to listen to the trolleys honk in vain- sometimes for twenty minutes- before an individual comes out to move their car.

(tonight, 7:30pm)

(it's hard to see, but I considered doing violence to that BMW. 

that's not what anybody wants! this is the city of brotherly love, after all)

So in the spirit of community and such, if you're going to drive during inclement weather, park considerately. 
 Sharing the road is not just a bike-related transportation issue.

(tonight, 11:30pm)

bicycle graveyard.

I liked this recent story about our own Bicycle Coalition Bike Ambassadors wielding tools to rid the city of skeleton bikes."  One of my professors claims that these bikes are not so much victims of theft as abandonment- and once they've been sitting around for a while, the restaurant worker subculture of bikers (see in highest volume in Center City near Broad Street between 12am and 2am) will part them out so they can get parts for their own bikes.  While I don't know if that's true, I am sure glad the BCP is out there cleaning up.  

Then of course, it snowed in Philly.

Many people opted not to ride.

Like me.

Others left their bikes right where they were. Many of the racks at Temple had one or two bikes emerging from the melting snow or wedged in between heaps of plowed snow.

At home, our own resident unfunctional bike- a victim of a broken chain- has taken a turn at modeling. 

my life in bike stats.

Big Brother and I have a monthly bicycle miles accountability routine.  Tonight we checked in and I went a little crazy with my numbers.  They reveal a lot about my habits- though not entirely, as there was a lot more bussing, subway-ing, and walking in January than a typical in-school month.  But here's what I was up to on my bike:


I rode 118 miles.
I rode 82 of my total miles on or after school started on January 19.


I rode 35.3 of my total miles at night.  
Are you watching for bikes when you drive at night?


I failed to encounter zen and the art of bicycle maintenance.


I averaged 3.8 miles a day, or 6.2 on days that I rode (I like my days off).
My average round trip was 4.9 miles.

A. 32% of my miles involved acquiring or imbibing drink.*
B. 27% of my miles involved picking up library books or amazon.com orders from the post office.
C. 26% of my miles involved getting groceries.


There was no overlap between A and B or A and C. There was a teensy bit of overlap between B and C thanks to a sweet new supermarket by my school.


I had a Church of the Granny Bike moment on my folding bike.


I made 15 round trips on the Dahon.
I made 11 round trips on the Old Dutch Treat.
This was the first month that I've ridden the Hello Kitty bike more, thanks to my snazzy new headlight.


I've ridden approximately 685 miles since going car-free last August.  Amazing what the body can do without the Honda, isn't it?




All routes were checked using Google Maps. My lifetime car-free cumulative numbers include some earnest fudging from unrecorded rides early on and when I was on vacation away from my lovely spreadsheet.  All errors are due to the fact that I'm a historian who's never taken a statistics class. All bike miles were accrued wearing regular clothes for the purpose of transportation. All January miles were accrued wearing a helmet.


*Know your limits before you get on your bike and plan accordingly (that's how I roll). Drink and ride responsibly, judiciously, or not at all. I'm not here to tell you how to live your life so don't blame me, sue me, or judge me.  I'm not looking for a conversation, that is, unless you are the awesome dude who was hauling a mega-case of bottles on your front rack in 20 degree weather the other day.  Because that was awesome and required some serious skills.

unexpected day in the life.

Give me a day that starts out with me falling asleep around 4am.


I'll tell you that it's not going to be a good day.  There's that midday social obligation.  There's articles to read.  There's all those bike miles to add up.  There's that class I'm not interested in, talking about that book that I didn't get much out of with that group of people who bore me with that nutty professor.  That's going to happen.


Ugh.


I'm going to wake up a little grumpy.


And things are going to add up.


That toast is delicious.  And that music?  It's music to my ears.


Those people outside the liquor store?- yes, I'm there at 11:30am- the ones who always heckle me for cash when I pretend I'm not listening?-- dollar bills all around, not really thinking about it.  It's windy, get some coffee.


Let's get on that bike, the one I fight with, the one that carries me through Center City as that van honks at me but I miss all the potholes.  Bake some cookies, my favorite thing to do.  Baking with the girls who are like my Relief Society, making our own group just like the Relief Society would've told us to.  But give us mimosas- the idea they scoffed at, drinking at noon- give us mimosas and chocolate chips and snickerdoodles.  A few hours of much needed sisterhood and that bread!  Something you could only find in Philly, that bread!


Breeze through those articles, the ones we won't talk about, and on to dinner.  Leftover spaghetti noodles somehow transform themselves into some proto-yakisoba, pan-fried noodles, onions, garlic, pea sprouts, soy sauce.  And we have that conversation, texting back and forth about that UPS guy who likes you.  I look forward to that, you know.  Coffee, yes, at 6pm, class tonight, what a bore! But I'm glad we talk- a different we- when we meet in the kitchen. I'm glad when you offer me some of that soup and when you tell me you liked the latkes I made, the ones you ate without asking.  Going to that talk tomorrow, getting an advisor tomorrow, class tomorrow.


Let's not think about tomorrow.


Let's talk about going to OAH in April, tenement style, with everyone.  Or you- the other you- call me and squeeze in that five minute conversation while you walk home and I race out the door.  Headlight, blinkee light, helmet, lock.  Green lights and minimal traffic, easy parking and not even late!


Allow me to bust out every strategy in the book to get through that class.  The instant challenge to a viewpoint that you tell me later will make me that professor, the one people are afraid to take and who challenges them to learn!  The notes to the person sitting next to me that inspire discreet smiles and solidarity.  The discussion's dragging, please, let me ask that question- the one about how this book would look if we wrote it from a different methodological perspective.  Let it be 9 o'clock when the professor starts answering that question, when he lays out how the book would be called "Spain on the Brain: Anglo Anxieties in Hispanic World, 1500-1800," and tells us the who thesis and sums up the class just perfectly in spite of repeating the phrase "Spain on the Brain" five, eight times.  Who cares if the monologue lasted 35 minutes?  It's the second time I've made this happen, that question, this monologue.  I've already forgotten I don't care about colonialism.  What a time we had with those guys! The ones who drive us crazy, the ones who tell us they enjoyed our comments and that they like our folding bike. The ones who exist only as types and never come out with us afterwards.


Beer, glorious beer, finally!  Let there be the favorite usual waitress who we always overtip at our favorite usual bar, the ones where people's eyes twinkle as the pitcher gets emptier and the light reflects off the yellow glass lamps and the dingy wood paneling.  Oh, that laugh that reminds me of my cousin, and please, tell me again that twenty-five isn't that old.


Oh you guys! You don't have to wait.  Headlight, blinkee light, helmet, lock.  I'll try that smaller intersection, just right, an easy left turn.  Why have I never taken that route before? 


Give me third gear all the way down the Parkway, wind on my face, no cars, dim lights glowing against the Art Museum.  I'm on the folding bike, it's not as blissfully cruise-y as the other bike, but wait, it is.  Sublime propulsion along the usual unnoticeable route.  Don't let the cat in, he comes in anyways, but he's home, I'm home, he's happy, I'm happy.  I'm headed up the stairs, happy because I'm leading this life that I never planned to lead, happy that I enjoyed this day that I didn't expect to enjoy.

slow and steady wins the race.

In conversations about the health benefits of moving to Philadelphia and bike commuting, I typically use the "fat summer" of 2008 as a point of reference.  I had moved to Utah, lost ten pounds from the stress, bought a bike, gained all the weight back, and then set upon a rather solitary, sedentary summer that included a lot of air-conditioned hours spent watching movies while consuming a steady intake of drinks, Pringles, Cheeze-Nips, Oreos, and the like.  It was a lonely time that was met with poor food choices. We've all been there.  There are basically no pictures of me from that time because I took special care to delete them along the way.  I had no energy, wore loose sundresses because my pants didn't fit, and was pretty squishy.  I didn't have a waist.  We don't have to talk exact numbers here, other than that I had a BMI of ~27- right in the middle of the overweight category.






Fast forward fifteen months.  There were some slow and steady changes made over time.  I started with not buying junk and drinking less.  I lost about 12 pounds doing that.  I moved to a city with a Trader Joe's where I do most of my shopping, making sure to toss a bag of spinach in with my groceries and skipping out on the treats (I bought sweets at TJ's for the first time in Philly this week... seriously).  The last 8 pounds came off as I embarked on a car-free lifestyle.*  This was unintentional.**  I should round out Fall Semester with 500 miles under my belt.  


I've mentioned the changes in posts along the way, but today was a big milestone.  I've lost 20 pounds since the "fat summer." My BMI is 23- right in the midst of the normal weight range.  I am decidedly less doughy. I've lost about four inches off my waist and now have an extensive collection of pants that are much too large.  Double chins in photographs are seldom a problem.  I weigh less than I did my senior year of high school in 2002 and any time since.


I'm not trying to brag-- but I really, truly believe in the power of lifestyle change.  There are lots of reasons to consider getting on a bike, and weight loss is a legitimate one.  Most days I ride between 2 and 6 miles, with the occasional 10 or 12 mile day.  So there you have it-- you don't have to run a marathon to see results!






*My comments about nutrition should be qualified to note, in earnest, that I consume lager and fried bar food with greater frequency nowadays.  That's slowed my weight loss but nonetheless, since selling my car, I have steadily lost weight without any gaining back. Eating everything I can- including glorious full fat dairy- has not stemmed the tide of weight loss.  So there's some logic there.


**No, really. My poor roommate can attest to the endless whining about being hungry all the time and how none of my clothes fit- and I couldn't even buy Gap Jeans any more because even the smaller sizes are cut too wide (I recommend J. Crew for bike-altered bodies) .  It was a very rough time for him. 

because it's snowing, i should be riding my bike.

Most things I do fall into two categories.  There are the things that I do that are a good idea, like eating a balanced diet, and things that I do because I can, like supplementing that diet with lager and whatever kind of bar food can be rustled up (lately: perogies from my beloved Oscar's and beer battered green beans from Prohibition).  The two categories aren't mutually exclusive (selling my car) and things can even migrate from one category to another (moving to Philly without a job).  

I tell you all this because today I rode my bike to the store in the snow. I did it just because I could. I am not quite sure if it was a good idea or not. 

I went back and forth on it all day- I was down to basically zero food, but the weather was crappy.  A girl has to eat, but I was making good progress on one of my papers. (approximately 6,000 words to go!).  Finally daylight was starting to dim, and it occurs to me that if it freezes there will be zero food tomorrow.  So I bundled up a little more than I do for just rain and headed out into the mess wearing all this:

On my feet- a pair of soccer socks, with a pair of wool socks over them, with a pair of rubber boots.

On my legs- (thermals tragically MIA) yoga pants, rain pants.

On my torso- shirt, North Face puffy coat (I like to sweat), rain jacket.

On my hands- water & wind resistant gloves

On my neck- a scarf that got very wet.

On my head- crocheted beanie and Nutcase helmet, sans pads.

So this was no small effort, but I'm thinking, riding in the snow? I've done this like a million times.  And I get outside, and it's kind of crappy.  And I get on my bike, and I'm like WHAT ARE THESE DAGGERS STABBING MY EYES?

Utah people, allow me to delude myself here, but the snow in Utah is as fluffy and dry as marshmallows, and getting hit in the eye by a flake is akin to, I don't know, an angel's wing brushing against your eyelashes.  When I saw the big flakes out my window, I was thinking of that. Not being stabbed in the eyeball.  I think it might've been sleeting, but that was really unpleasant.  It was also unpleasant that the only people doing dangerous shit on the road were from New Jersey.  If there's any prejudice I've learned to cultivate while living in Philadelphia, it's that people from New Jersey are the worst (try going to a decent bar on a Friday or Saturday... ugh). This did not help their case.

I interrupt this blog post for a Church of the Granny Bike Public Service Announcement:

If it's snowing, stay the hell out of my city, New Jerseyians!

Those people crossed the line.

proof that I went (after 11,000 pictures my camera struggles a little in bad weather)

Anyways, the grocery getting part wasn't so bad, because I inadvertently stumbled upon The Secret to managing Trader Joe's on a Saturday.  It's called "Forget To Turn Your Blinkee Light Off." No wonder people gave me so much space!  I am going to do that every time I go from now on.

I made it home intact, basically dry, but not really filled with the joy that I usually feel after grocery getting by bike.  A balaclava and some goggles probably would've made it better, but the visibility was a bitch.  While fortunately I'm off of grocery duty here for the next couple of weeks, I may have to get on board with public transportation for my shopping when it gets to be high winter.

really... poor strange little camera!

The up side to all of this is now that I have plenty of food to get me through whatever further inclement weather comes, and that food stash includes Candy Cane Joe Joes, one of the best foods of all time! In fact, now that I'm having a cookie, I think I will never question the value of riding in the snow again.

gratitude.

It's time for the annual "I'm thankful for" list. I'm just dashing it out as I have a lot of writing to do this evening, but this really is one of my favorite yearly exercises.

I am thankful for my always supportive family. They keep me going when times are tough. They give me perspective and insight and patience and love.  In this past year in particular, they generously and graciously opened their homes to me when I needed the time and the space to rebuild my tattered sense of self. My family sustains me, and there really aren't words to express how grateful I am for that.  I couldn't do this alone. I can't wait to be with them soon!

I am thankful for opportunities. I'm grateful I'm in my seventh year of college. I'm thankful that I've been able to travel, present at conferences, meet new people, take on exciting projects, and have such a dang cool career path. I forget how awesome it is when I get caught up in the drudgery and the logistics, but I'm glad that I continuously get reminded that I am doing something special.

I am thankful I changed my life. This city, this school, this program, this life, these challenges-- they were all exactly what I needed. I have never worked so hard or put so much of myself into anything, and I'm grateful for what that experience has done to my spirit. I feel fortified. I am glad I didn't take other paths and that so many things in my life didn't happen so that I can be here, now.

I am thankful that I sold my car and became a bike commuter. The 455 miles I've ridden since moving to Philly last August have made my body fit and relieved me of so much stress.  Those miles also allow me to consume lager and fries several times a week without consequences, which I am particularly grateful for.

Which reminds me, I am thankful for my health. In a season of colds and swine flu, I feel phenomenally blessed that I have not been sick once. 

I am thankful for my friends in every time zone. I like knowing that they are out there in the world being good people and making the world a better place. It gives me hope. I am thankful that we have the bonds that we do. 

In the moment- I'm thankful I have a place to be this Thanksgiving. I'm thankful that in the past month I've become apart of a great group of friends who give me endless opportunities to laugh. I'm grateful for the prospect of pear butterscotch pie, a ride in the rain, finally being able to understand how to write about political culture, and getting to tell stories that have never been told this way.  I'm thankful for white Christmas lights and a roommate who, in five seconds, is going to ask me to help him start preparing an amazing meal for tomorrow.  And I'm thankful for all of you who read my blog and make me smile with your comments and encouragement. I have so much to be thankful for!

Happy Thanksgiving! 

a magical neil young cover.

philly tweed ride.

I was really there! 

Photo via veronikavsyou- check out her photostream.

Ok, so I might have been excited about the Philly Tweed Ride since the second I found out about it. But how could I not be? A bunch of finely dressed people riding bikes together? This is what I do. We were blessed with great weather for parading through the city. The part of me that's been reading about fundamentalists all week would like to think that hearts were changed and that many Center City onlookers saw the "style over speed" bicycle light this November afternoon. If anything, a lot of people saw the Old Dutch Treat and had plenty of nice things to say about my beloved beast.

At the Waterworks behind the Art Museum before the ride.

Parade through Rittenhouse Square.

Chilling at the Schuykill River Park.

It was an amazing time. I was the 49th person to sign in, and there were easily at least 20 more people who came after me. We rode through Center City (past tons of shocked Saturday shoppers on Walnut!), walked through Rittenhouse Square, played games at Schuykill River Park, rode past Independence Hall, enjoyed a pleasant regrouping at Elfreth's Alley (Philadelphia's Oldest Street!), and then terminated the ride at the choice bar / eatery The Institute (that extra bowl of chili accidentally sent up to the second floor that I got to eat? AMAZING.). I was fortunate to meet a ton of kind folks that I am proud to share the road with.  It was nice to get together with a bunch of other everyday cyclists for a little fun and to remember why doing what we do is so dang cool.