I love you Earl.

It has been a week and a half since I started riding my bike to work. I have managed to bike 6 our of the 10 workdays. I am SO happy. It is so interesting that starting a routine can either make or break you day. I have always been such an active person, always doing yoga or running to loose weight or change bad habits. Every time I have always dreaded having to do the task at hand and inevitably loose steam and give up. This is the first time I have truly looked forward to something. From the moment I wake up my new mindset is - brush teeth, make coffee, put on biking clothes and then I am off to work! I never have a feeling of displeasure, its only when I can't bike in that I am devastated and agitated. Funny how things change.

I never really properly introduced my bike. His name is Earl. He is from the Trek Family and dashingly handsome in his powder blue suit. He listens, is always on time and waits on me hand and foot. Literally. He has my back, but sometimes even the good ones can let you down.

So Tuesday I had a travesty happen - I wrecked Earl. His condition is stable; the squid checked him out and he's gonna be fine. I totally forgot how embarrassing it is to bust your ass in front of a ton of people. Not to mention it brought back memories of an adolescent biking accident when I thought I was Evel Knievel and flew down a hill in my neighborhood and smashed through a pine tree with my blue Schwinn bike. OUCH! It still can make my sister cry with laughter. Thanks Kate.

Anyway, it was hot, I was gaining confidence with every pedal push and Earl was on a roll. I also knew that because I had a program to operate for work I wouldn't be able to ride again until Friday. Bummer, I had really been getting used to our hot, sweaty dates.

I was just crossing back into the District on 14th Street bridge, passing the Jefferson Memorial (Which is my all time favorite monument)  and I come to a large group of teenage girls. In my former life I was one of these girls - thinking I was hot shit and owned the sidewalk I was strutting down. The girls were spread across my path about eight bodies deep - you know, one of the big sidewalks that could also double as an access road for work trucks - and I had no where to go but the grass. So I gracefully jumped off the sidewalk into the grass to pass them by, speeding up as I did to look "cool." Then as I tried to reconnect my tires to the sidewalk - BAM! I was down and sliding down the gravel in front of the wide-eyed girls. "Are you ok? Do you need help?" and I jumped up and yelled "you need to watch out for bikers and share the sidewalk" I added "little bitches" under my breath. Karma - 1, Lacy - 0.

There really is no moral here, but two things I would like to add. The grass is no place for my Earl. And this is a habit I do not intend on breaking.