Riding a Bicycle

For my whole life, riding a bicycle has been a constant.  My mom rode across the state of Iowa when she was pregnant with me (only 3 months, don't worry, it was safe!).  I didn't ride a bicycle of my own right away, but I was only a few years old when my fantastic parents plopped me down on a trike and then a bicycle.

The times in my life when I haven't ridden regularly have lacked something.  Being on two wheels, whether powered by my legs and/or gravity, or by the wonders of internal combustion, always clears my head out in a way that almost any other activity just can't replicate.

Today was the first time I have ridden with my girlfriend in at least a month.  Far too long, but it reminded me how much I love riding, and how glad I am that she shares that interest with me.  Cutting through traffic on the city streets, silently keeping up with the cars that are working so much harder as we easily glide down one block to the next.

She stole my wheels, and gave me her pink wheels to put on my blue bike.  Fashion faux pas or a sign that two wheels really do make everything fun?