5:00 pm. That means that at any moment, Kyle will barrel through the door, Roxy will bellow out a couple sharp hoots, we will muscle on some really tight shorts, climb aboard our bikes, and ride.
Riding my bike, I quite enjoy. I love most things about it: the constant wind resistance, the game of pedaling in circles instead of pumping up and down, wearing a helmet, using my outstretched arms as turn signals, and knowing that I have the ability to completely unzip my shirt like a jacket, if I so desire.
Excited for the ride, with sunglasses and clip-in shoes on, we hit the pavement. We hit the pavement so hard that panting soon ensued. We zipped around each windy turn and hill of our course, until we busted through a solid looking cloud of tiny bugs, shattering it to rubble. From then on out, it was like riding through a hail storm, pelting our helmets & skin with, what we knew were, bugs. Opening my mouth to breathe was out of the question. Lucky for me, I also happened to forget a slathering of lip balm.
Each huddle of bugs that we disturbed I imagined scooping up with my shoulders, head, and torso like a snow plow. They never let up, but neither did we. We must have been such a nuisance, constantly breaking up such boisterous bug parties.
My twiggy legs began to buckle and feel more and more like pudding, reminiscent of the giggling center of a cheesecake just out of the oven. Constrained, close-mouthed breathing became normal and my pace dwindled severely but luckily, we were home.
Once hydrated and thoroughly stretched, my favorite thing to have after a ride is reminiscent of my typical weekday breakfast: a tall glass of ginger banana smoothie. No matter the time or the place, it just feels so right after a heart-pounding date with my pair of wheels and menacingly stiff bike seat.