Hey folks! I have a story for you today! It's about: My bike.

Soooo.

Today was my first time riding a bike since I was a kid. At least, my first time with traffic.

I got a bike a couple weeks ago, and had taken some practice rides up and down my street at New Apartment (which I am moving into next week, by the way).

First of all, I need to make sure y'all know that where I live is MADE OF HILLS. Even the "flat" roads are sloped.

Thankfully, the awesome folks at bike-pgh.org have a Handy Dandy Bike Map that even baby cyclists like me can understand. Roads with bike lanes are blue, and roads with scary hills are yellow, with little arrows to let you know how steep the grade is. So you can calculate approximate scaryness of the hill.

I was going to meet a friend for lunch, and I used my Handy Dandy Bike Map to make super sweet plan!

I was going to go to the park, and then turn left on Greenfield Avenue, and walk my bike down the hill (because it was in yellow!) and then hop on the Jail Trail and ride it toward my lunch destination.

All morning, I prepared myself. Made myself a smoothie, drank it while I showered. Made sure my bike bag had all the essentials: work shirt, deodorant, comb, emergency bike repair book, spare tube, patch kit, poncho, library book.

"Am I really doing this?" I asked myself, as a girl who has thus far gone only half a block at a time on a bike.

"Heck yes I am!!!" I told myself, because I was pumped.

I was pumped, and I had a PLAN. A good plan. A precise plan.

I got my helmet ready, and made sure my bike bag was velcroed and bungeed to the rack, and I went downstairs.

And I hit the road!

A couple of cars passed me... I took a deep breath, held my ground. Whew. Okay.

Oh, hey, a pothole! Expertly dodged. RAWK!!!!

Park entrance! Sweet! Now, I'm looking left for the place to turn.

Hey! A turny spot! It's not labeled but maybe it's...

Nope. A cul-de-sac.

Got back on the main road... I keep looking left, looking for my road. I come to an intersection. Nope! Not the right road! And I keep going.

"Hmmm. I probably should have turned by now. But, I haven't seen the road yet... I'll just go a little bit longer til I have a convenient chance to consult my Handy Dandy Bike Map." I knew I was going vaguely in the right direction - could see buildings I recognized in the distance.

So, I'm riding. It's a nice, easy ride. I do a few strokes, and try to figure out a little bit about the whole "shifting gears" bit. I'm getting used to being on the road, doing more of the pothole dodging, taking deep breaths when cars pass me. That kind of thing.

And I keep going, and I notice I'm going faster.

I've stopped pedaling altogether, and I have my hands on both brakes, gently squeezing (because that thing about flipping over the top of the handlebars CAN ACTUALLY HAPPEN! The blogs tell me!).

I'm squeezing the brakes, but I'm still going faster.

And then my bike feels a little bit wobbly, and I'm still going fast! I'm hanging on to the handlebars and just trying to steer, meanwhile there is only one word coming out of my mouth.

It has four letters, starts with an F, and I was saying it over and over.


And then, at the end of the hill, there is a stop light.

I take a minute to get my bearings.

And I find out that the hill I was just on:

YELLOW.


So! The first time off my street, I rode on a yellow hill! In a city made of the scariest hills ever!

And lived to tell you about it!


So I learned some lessons today.

One: STAY AWAY FROM YELLOW HILLS. (This, BTW, was a one-arrow hill. So, "not steep," relatively. Clearly, two arrows mean I would die.)

Two: I need to learn more about how to undo things when I get lost. Clearly, this will come with time. I've got to learn whole new roads in a city that is relatively new to me. But, in the mean time: STOP. CHECK YOUR MAP.

Three: I need to get a serious pannier. Any moments I spend on my bike thinking about the stuff I have strapped to it are too many. Especially as a new cyclist. I need to be paying attention to so many other things.


And, you guys, the biggest lesson of all: Cycling is so much fun. Even with the scary bits. Seeing the trees, feeling my wheels on the ground, noting how my body works to move the bike: all of this is an incredible experience that is worth every bit of work you might have to do to work up to it.


P.S. There is a woman in Starkville, MS who needs your prayers if you're the praying type. I'm riding today with her in my heart and on my mind. Her name is Jan Morgan, and you can read her husband's blog at http://getwelljan.blogspot.com/. She was hit by a car while riding on her bike with a friend, and every day is still a struggle for her life. Share the road, put your cell phone down, and join us as we get off the couch in her honor.

Beauty tip

me: pffft.
me: cat hair stuck in chapstick
J: ha
J: GIRL
me: chapstick? its winter dude.
J: : so?
J: my gay therapist put chapstick on his cuticles while i was talking to him
me: what?
me: ive never heard of anyone doing that
me: weeeird
J: uh, yeah
J: so
J: that's my gay beauty tip of the week

First day of pulmonary rehab

Apparently, lung rehab is going to rock.

I was a little nervous. I was afraid I would get there and not be able to do much, but I did 15 minutes of walking, 15 minutes on the elliptical, and 5 minutes of rowing. (652 total calories burned, for those who like that kind of information!)

And the lady who worked with me today was so nice. I hope I get to be with her more!

Anyway, the awesomest thing about it is that after the 12 weeks of supervised exercise and dietitian access, I will get to exercise there indefinitely through their $25/month maintenance program.

That rocks so hard.

I'm really excited. I'm 39 pounds down, with lots to go, and I'm feeling really hopeful about this year.

Joyous Kwanzaa! Or: How To Really Confuse Your Family

I love Kwanzaa, y'all.

Kwanzaa is a holiday that knows exactly what it is. It's a cultural holiday that was started in 1966, in order to bring African philosophy back to the African American community.

We can sing the principles along with Sweet Honey in The Rock, like the first day: "Umoja, Unity that brings us together." And they can teach us how to say "Kujichagulia." (Koo-gee-cha-goo-lee-ah, which means self-determination)

The principles for the other days are collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity, and faith. Who *wouldn't* want to strive for those things?

So, I don't go all out for Kwanzaa or anything. I don't light a kinara, or have a special meal, or observe it at all, really, except to maybe note what the principle of the day is and meditate on it a bit.


Incidentally, I happened to plan to visit my family during the time frame that Kwanzaa falls. It's from December 26 - New Year's Day. I thought that most people kind of knew when Kwanzaa was, and what it was - even if they only vaguely know that it's an African-American holiday.


So, I sent an e-mail to my mom and grandma saying "I'll be home for Kwanzaa!"

You know, since I won't be home for Christmas.


According to my family, this led my mother to awkwardly announce, "Now, everyone, remember that Hedge has converted to Judaism. She will be with us for her holiday: Kwanzaa."

Which left my family wondering: Has she become a black Jew now?

My poor confused family.


Makes for a good story, at least?

Happy new year, everybody!