Since I sold my Saab in July, I’ve made a game of seeing how long our family can go before buying a new (second) car. As a result I’ve been biking to work 2-3 days a week.
My husband, Chuck, transformed my mountain bike into a commuter bike, with bags, lights, the whole nine yards. (I’ll show it to you sometime; it’s pretty cool. Or as cool as a commuter bike can be.)
The first day I rode to work, I was so proud of myself! I packed my clothes for the day in one pannier (that’s the bag thingy on the back rack of my bike), and my computer and lunch in the other, and rode the 5 miles to work uneventfully.
I changed in the locker room at work, only to discover that, in the half-dark of my closet, I had grabbed two different shoes. My coworkers got a good laugh out of that. Fortunately I had a pair of shoe-esque black slippers I kept in my desk. Whew! Peril No. 1: victory.
Today I encountered Peril No. 2. All this biking to work has led to a drop in a couple sizes. (Yay!) Unfortunately, as I packed my clothes for work I didn’t first try on the pants that fit me just a few months ago.
So as we speak, I’m walking around the office hitching up my pants to keep them from dragging on the floor. I’m not complaining too loudly about this problem, though. I have to celebrate victories where I can. :-)
And at least my shoes match.