sunny unpreparedness

Sorry for the radio silence, peeps! There just really wasn’t much going on last week; I had planned a [geared] ride while I was down in the city, and then it rained. Which sounds like the lamest excuse on the planet but a) Mike only has one set of fenders and b) I lack the proper gear to ride in wet conditions. I did push-ups and Pilates instead.
And then I came back to Boston, fully prepared to hole up in my apartment until cabin fever had me running around my block, screaming a la Linda on Intervention [a.k.a. that Asian woman that was addicted to those painkiller lollipops and who was absolutely insane...did anyone else see that episode? BECAUSE IT WAS INSANE]. I pretended I wanted to be on the rollers again. I tried really hard to act like a law student and get work done. I sighed a lot.
But then...but then...it got warm...!

Like warm enough that I’ll have to quit trying to even call myself a “cyclist” if I didn’t ride. Even if the whole concept of riding outdoors for more than 30min has, by this point, become completely foreign to me, it seemed like the right thing to do. Besides, there wasn’t going to be much wind. Which meant I could probably survive riding some short distance and then pat myself on the back for not wanting to die afterwards. Perfect!
And then I realized I left my shoes, only light windproof jacket, and only light pair of gloves in NYC. Oops.
But realizing that that is the most ridiculous excuse that I’ve come up with thus far, I made up my mind: I was going to go on that damn ride, regardless of whether I looked like a poor hipster or not. Lack of a proper jersey meant that all my tools went into my Baileyworks bag, which went over a black fleece zip up, layered over my long sleeve Underarmour. Shorts went on under Underarmour leggings, paired with Sidi socks, sneakers [um...yeah...don't hate], and my NYC Velo cap. And I was like damnnn, yo, this is like the most pro thing I’ve ever worn, in my life...!

Pro-ed out, I pointed the front wheel southwest towards Dover and did a super easy 2 hours. I waved at some peeps, got some nods and sunglass-ed smiles from other peeps, and still got my ass handed to me on the easy hills. It was refreshing, though, if only in that it wasn’t freezing out and I was perfectly fine in my completely unprepared state.
Of course, I forgot about bringing food. I was starving by the time I got home but a smoothie craving demanded I run to Trader Joe’s to stock up on yogurt. Actually I was starving 1hr30min into my ride but I just really wanted that smoothie. Yes, I thought about the potential embarrassment of walking into a grocery store in the most revealing outfit I own, but somehow I found the idea of spending most of my morning without underwear on mildly appealing.

So 5 hours after I ate breakfast, I blended the shit out of some nonfat greek yogurt [yeah, I'm not vegan anymore], almond milk, hemp protein powder [the unflavored kind that sort of tastes like ground up rope from Bob’s Red Mill...don’t worry, you can’t really taste it], half a banana, and some frozen peach slices. It was delicious, regardless of how disgusting it looks in that picture. And then I inhaled lunch.
I spent the rest of the day rolling out my IT bands and trying not to fall over from sheer exhaustion. Just so I could do it all over again on Sunday, a little more prepared that time around. But more on that tomorrow...
[Please tell me all you Boston people rode this weekend?!]

a fuzzy city

On my way back down to NYC again today [for the Bicycle Film Festival Street Fair on Saturday - come say hello at the NYC Velo tent!], I'm simultaneously sort of glad I live in Boston.
And not only because riding downtown with an overstuffed Baileyworks bag and another tote bag half hanging off my handlebars is actually possible [even sans helmet, if I so chose].
It's because the establishments I frequent [other than the bike shops] might remember me once in a while, and not in that creeped out way. Which makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and loved inside. Okay, they just might be remembering a girl in crazy outfits, perpetually clutching a helmet, but they still remember.

It's only appropriate that I've recently achieved "regular" status at one of the two sewing/fabric stores I go to in Boston: Winmil Fabrics. Arguably the only fabric store left in Boston proper, it's no Mood, but remains a go-to for my basic lining fabric, thread, needles, etc. And, as an extra bonus, the husband-and-wife team behind the counter are definitely some of the nicer people in this city.
My purchases are usually fairly small - 3 yards of black fabric, a spool of thread - but I'll consistently be chatted up about my bike, where I go out riding, and if I have any more gears yet. On the topic of my lone gear, the owner stated:
"Well, I bet your legs get much stronger."
"Yeah, they're huge," I responded.
His wife laughed.

I love this kind of friendly banter. The kind that's only really possible in a small city if you're working on limited funds like I am. So even if I'm headed to glamorous NYC later this afternoon, I'm trying to keep my head on straight. Not crush on it too much. Not drool over all the places, people, and things to do in NYC while only seeing the limits of Boston.
Because, other than Tokyo, no other city has achieved warm-fuzzy-loved status with me. Yet.

bend over

My finals are going to kill me.
There, I said it. No more deluded denial. It's now published and therefore a reality I'm going to have to face. Never mind that they're in May, but 4 law exams nearly back to back...that's sort of like having your brain put through a blender while you simultaneously get raped by an elephant.
When we got on the topic of finals, and it finally started to sink in how much my finals were going to fuck with my life, a friend gave me a sage bit of advice:
"Bend over."

At this point, that's pretty much all I can do. And I have been...just not at the library [yet]. With spring finally making its way to Boston, I've been bent over my bike, chin nearly touching my handlebars, and pumping my legs like my life depends on it, while my inner Rahm Emanuel screams in my ear [the infamous], "Don't fuck this up!!!"

Yeah I should be applying this mentality to my classes, books, outlines, briefs, whatever. Yeah I should just start sleeping in the library. Yeah I should work more efficiently.
But honestly, who gives a shit when it's this nice out?
[Happy St. Patty's Day to everyone!]

red light means go

A predicted high of 45F today - yay for warm weather!
Yeah, I never thought I'd think 45F = "warm" but I'm so ready to peel off my Underarmour and fold it away until November. Snow isn't even pretty anymore, just slightly annoying. The gross brown heaps that it eventually turns into [and then gross brown water that cars like to splatter at me] doesn't really help make Boston winters any more appealing.
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for deferred gratification...just only when it applies to a goal that I can actually see. Desperately hoping for nicer weather that doesn't involve shards of ice flying in my face, enough layers to make me feel like I'm in a fat suit, and that embarrassing fogging up of my glasses whenever I enter a warmer room...is getting old.

I'm trying to be optimistic though; and even with all the snow yesterday, by early evening it was clear out. The lights strung up on the trees along Comm Ave were cute and pretty enough for even my beer soaked self to appreciate. I didn't get a picture though [I know, I really should have!], probably because I had no idea what I was doing at that point.
I ended up praying for a red light on my way home, hoping for an excuse to stop. I only hit one, and by the time I stumbled into my apartment, my face looked like a tiki torch.
I think I might have to train a little more for the beers + bikes shenanigans I'm mentally planning for the summer...

spinning out

Excuse the late evening posting recently, but it's been warm out.
Which means I haven't been getting enough work done, but it's not like the balmy weather's going to last much longer. Which also means I've been spending the day [since getting out of class] pedaling as hard as I can [to places where I can drink coffee]. The freezing cold almost made me forget how much fun it is to go so fast you're spinning out [although, yeah, I'm geared low]. Almost.

My excuse for blowing off the day? I'm officially on spring break, although it's not really spring, nor much of a break.
Still, I'm not complaining. The past few days have been akin to rubbing my face on cheese graters. It's not even the work, which can be sort of mind-numbing and prone to dammit-did-I-just-drool-everywhere-? naps, but the whole song and dance I tend to do at school. Smile, be sociable, pretend I don't have a secret life. Repeat.

Not that this secret life of mine is very exciting, mind you, but it does a lot to retain my sanity. And when things like "the economy" and "the world" start spinning out of control, well, it's nice to be able to hang onto something [even if it's just a fixed cyclocross bike].
Wait, scratch that. Especially when it's a fixed cyclocross bike...and coupled with coffee.