Bikes

I rode bikes today. And by 'rode bikes' I don't simply mean that I went on a bike ride. No, no, no. I did not take my bike on a long, winding trail, aiming for speed and the satisfaction of passing people on the left. My legs didn't burn so much that I needed to stop and stretch. Quite the opposite in fact. I didn't go on a bike ride, I RODE BIKES. With my friends. Around the block. Instead of opting for my long, slender, light weight, clipless-pedalled road bike, I turned to the cob-webbed, flat-tired mountain bike (probably a 12th birthday present of one of my room mates) hidden under the piles of unused debris in our garage. Amen. And do you know what I did with this bike? If you think back to age 8, you'll probably be able to recall far better than this lame story. That's right, I rode off the curb. I tried to do a wheely (but the frame was way too heavy), and I tried to race my friend who cruised up the hill on my road bike yelling "no fair!". Sooo fun. No rules, no limitations (except for "CAAAAR!"s), the road was once again reclaimed my playground. Best lunch break ever.