Today was my first commute home from work to the new house and the first commute since they cut on my shoulder. My wife dropped me and the 9-speed off this morning at the J-O-B and it was a scene out of a not so funny ’90s movie: me standing on the curb, backpack over flowing – slung over one shoulder, bike in one hand, lunch/coffee in the other, watching my ride pull away with a mixed expression of fear and excitement, knowing that I only had one way home – the pedals.

Now the sun was scheduled (per the interwebs last night) to shine for most of the day, but it seems that there was some sort of confusion with the powers that be and the time table was shifted to accommodate an interview with rain and a meeting of high winds. I got smirking weather reports every few minutes from co-workers who had access to the arrow-slit windows in our building (my position doesn’t warrant such perks) and who relished the anguished expression I gave when told how cold, wet, and dark it was becoming outside. A little after 4:30, the rain stopped and the sky turned from dark to light gray. I sucked it up, changed in my assigned mop & buffer pad-filled cleaning closet, and started my ride home. During my now 14.3 mile one-way commute there were a couple of route-finding challenges, some major potholes, sunshine, rain, sunshine with rain, a wicked headwind, tunes from the iPhone, and a monster hill. The shoulder felt OK and my quads are not as strong as the need to be, but they will come back in force by mid-summer. It took me an hour and twenty minutes to get home this time, but think that I can shorten it to an hour and ten on a normal day.

It felt extremely satisfying to get out and ride after work. I immediately rewarded myself upon arriving home with some Girl Scout Crack as you do when you have a cookie addiction.