When I lived with my parents in good ol' Maplewood, I'd bike to the bus stop every morning, to add some exercise to my day. It was a good jolt before my morning cup of coffee and helped get me going early in the day. (Provided that it didn't rain, or that it wasn't muggy-to-the-max.)
Now that my bus stops right outside the door, I don't have quite as much motivation to get to work early. Especially when my better half is still enjoying the comforts of sleep, it's hard to motivate myself to roll out of bed 15 minutes earlier so that I can...what exactly? Check cuteoverload.com, textsfromlastnight.com, notalwaysright.com and xkcd.com before the workday starts? I'd rather sleep. (And then check them during my afternoon break.) But that means I roll in right at 7:30 and considering the length of time it takes Outlook to start up, I need to be settling in to my cloth-covered box a little earlier.
Plus, let's not lie, I could use a bit more exercise in my life. I live seven blocks from Lake Calhoun and I'm dating a former lifeguard and swimmer. Getting through the summer without ending up in a swimsuit? Impossible. So, exercise it is. I get too easily discouraged when running - although I could make it into some kind of gamble: which body part will burn out first? Will it be my asthma-ridden lungs? Will my feet fill up with plantar fasciitis? Or will it be the trickest of all - the rise of the permanently ruined hamstring? This could be the subject of an excellent online betting circle, except that it's not that fun when you're (read: I'm) already wicked self conscious about the appearance of my legs in running shorts. Plus everyone in my neighborhood is in good health. There's no way I'm going running around the lakes, especially now when everyone's had enough time to tan and looks fabulouso in their bikinis. No, it will be the bike for me, thank you very much. I do not wheeze on the bike. I rarely fall down. I like my bike.
So I took the bike to work today, riding the bus in and intending to ride the bike back. I looked at the Minneapolis Bike Map and said to myself, "Self, this will be easy as pie." Forgetting, of course, that I cannot make pie.
I was supposed to go northeast on 11th until I got to Glenwood and then get on the bike path heading south. Easy peasy, right? Except for I shot my adrenaline through the roof by riding on Hennepin for six blocks, feeling like I was going to be run over by my own bus every two feet. Then I missed the turn. I could see the bike path but danged if I could figure out how the regular road let me on to it. Finally I rode down to the railroad tracks. They run right next to the bike path! Aha, I am so clever! It will be smooth sailing from here on out.
Remember that I also do not sail.
There is a reason that the road did not take me to the bike path via the railroad tracks, and that is because there is an eight-foot chain link fence between the tracks and the path. I discovered this under literally the sketchiest overpass I have ever seen. I passed several men on my way toward said bridge, and then suddenly there was no one. It felt like a scene from a horror movie - like the opening to Scream, except this time it's not the cute blonde that dies, it's the goofy brunette who gets eaten alive by ninjas and pirates that like to hang out under highway bridges. Remember that this is my brain we're talking about here: it can go from content to full-on three-alarm panic in half a second, reducing me to a pile of jello.
After walking along the railroad tracks for a bit, I did find an opening in the fence and got on the bike path. From there it was a simple matter of discovering that weather.com, when predicting the weather for your bike ride home, does not take into account the fact that you will already have the pulse rate of a hamster before you're even on the path. Also I discovered that my carefully filled water bottle had been left on my desk, where it will drip condensation onto imprint orders until Monday morning.
Amazingly enough I made it home in one piece and I'm eager to try it again. I'll just actually follow the map next time.
HA!
We Moved!!!
12 years ago
