Biking and sweating
Lately I’ve been busy. If not busy, then I’ve been tired. Short of that, I’ve been lazy. Between being busy, tired, or lazy, who has time for anything else?
Yesterday night saw me changing into my girlfriend’s clothing while she added the clothes I had worn that day to her load of laundry. Between the yoga pants and the sporting event t-shirt, I looked like a divorcee who had given up.
You might argue that it takes a strong man to be secure in woman’s clothing. But it doesn’t. It just takes a sweaty man who has no clean clothes of his own to change into. Anything is better than a damp dress shirt that clings to you with every move and jeans that are salty on the inside. Besides, yoga pants offer me access to a range of motion I’ve never known possible.
I’m sweaty often because I ride my bike everywhere. I’d say it offers all of the advantages of the New York subway system with none of the downside, but the truth is that there are ONLY downsides to the subway. Riding the subway is a self-guided tour of the saddest small town you can imagine, where frowning and a lack of eye contact are values to be upheld.
Biking is the opposite. There’s nothing that will put a smile on your face quite like tearing ass down the Hudson River Greenway and hollerin’ at tourists. You go the long way purely for the sake of it. You’re exercising and you’re out of your mind on endorphins, so people better not mess with you.
An hour on a bike can feel like 10 minutes. 10 minutes on the subway can feel like an hour. I haven’t bought a metrocard in over a year (a savings of roughly $1,200) and it’s all thanks to a green folding bicycle.