There are few things more professionally satisfying than taking a business call in spandex.
After a hiatus of two or three years, I have recently begun to bike to work again. My motivation is not environmental (I typically take the bus) nor is it financial (with a monthly pass, I pay whether I ride or not). I'm not even in it for the exercise.
The truth is, I get to work faster by bike than I can in a car. Also, there's the benefit of some wind in the face and fresh air in the lungs before the long workday. As well as the opportunity to share my bike shorts with rush-hour traffic.
But biking to work isn't as simple as turning the pedals. And while I'll always remember how to ride a bike, there are several aspects to a cycling commute that I'd forgotten.
First, there's that whole traffic thing. Technically, a bicycle is another vehicle, subject to and privileged with all the rules of the road. Unfortunately, blurry-eyed morning commuters and work-weary afternoon drivers aren't big on technicalities. They're more into honking.
There's a lot of honking, some varied shouting and gesturing, and the always pleasant pedal-to-the-floor passing, whereby the frustration of having driven 15 miles per hour for all of three minutes is vented by burning three gallons of gasoline in a race to the next stoplight.
To each his own, as every aggrieved motorist has certainly met an equally moronic cyclist, someone weaving in the middle of the road or rolling through stops as if in possession of a "Get Out of Intersections Free" card. Call me whatever you want, I'd just like to get to work in one piece.
Arriving at work is another challenge. Ever try negotiating a revolving door or an elevator with an unwieldy piece of luggage? Imagine if that luggage had two big wheels, a couple of pointy pedals, and a nice greasy chain.
And then there is a matter of turning my sweaty, chain-greased self into a presentable corporate-casual employee. Without access to workplace shower facilities, the office commute had better be downhill the whole way. A guy can love the environment all he wants, but after a week of showing up sweaty, his coworkers will be buying his bus pas.
I do, mercifully, have the benefit of an office. But years ago, with no locker room, empty conference rooms, or private offices, I was forced to dress for the workday in a bathroom stall. And changing clothes in confined spaces is not as easy as Clark Kent makes it seem. Superheroes rarely share dressing rooms with public (and popular) toilets.
An office also allows for bike storage, a convenience unavailable to cube-dwellers. It is difficult, though, to get through a busy day without having a conversation about the ride. If this happens too often, a damp jersey on the door works wonders for repelling nosy coworkers.
The most overlooked aspect of riding to work, of course, is getting home. After a hard day in the spreadsheet mines, I have little motivation to wrestle handlebars for the ride back. But there's nothing like that incentive of getting away from work to get me on the bike.
And at the end of the day, you've got to get it home somehow.
(Ben Grabow writes for the young, the urban and the easily amused. Contact him at thinlyread(at)gmail.com.)
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