I’m not really one for new year’s resolutions (on account of my life being so perfect already), but I’ve been meaning to start cycling into work again when I get the opportunity. Today that opportunity arose, so given that this is the first work day of the new year, I’m claiming this as my new year’s resolution.
I used to cycle into the work back in the day (well, 3 or 4 years ago), and I’ve cycled longer distances in the meantime (it’s pretty much a flat 10 miles to the office), but somehow it seemed longer and harder this time (TWSS). Maybe it’s just my age. Or the 5lb laptop they make us take home with us so we can still work if the building blows up. Either way, it seemed to take forever – even though it was only 45 minutes – and I was more grateful to arrive at work than I think I have ever been in this job.
Upon arriving at the office however, I discovered that my badge did not let me get in the back-door from the basement leading to the showers. I know they won’t let us scummy contractors into the underground covered parking (although I chose to stick it to the man by cycling around the barrier and parking my bike there anyway), but seriously? The door into the building? Way to treat the hired help like…well…hired help. (I’m waiting for them to assign us our own water fountain, next…) So I had to traipse around to the main entrance and walk through reception in my muddied cycling gear, and walk half the length of the building just to get to the showers. Naturally, this was met with looks varying from disdain to contempt from the suited employees, but I don’t know if this was down to my appearance, or sheer disgust at the fact that I had chosen to cycle to work at an oil company, denying them the gas revenue they oh so desperately need.
Still, I shouldn’t complain. The showers are hot, and they provide complimentary towels and toiletries (although interestingly, they provide shampoo but no soap – a bit of a bias to the hirsute members of staff, and absolutely no use to me as I’d given myself the full cycling wax-job as part of my preparations). I’d taken the precaution of depositing a spare pair of pants, shoes, and a belt in my assigned locker a few days previous, so all I had to carry in my backpack was a shirt, underwear and a tie (and thankfully I remembered them all this time – I think I’ve forgotten one or more of them at various times during previous velo-commutes). Unfortunately, the belt seemed to have been from my thinner, fitter days, and was about 2″ shorter than it needed to be. The upside was that it made me look like I still had a 32″ waist, even if it made me feel like a complete hippo by cutting into my midriff all day.
The worst thing about cycling in to work, I discovered, is knowing that you have to do it all again, in reverse, at the end of the day. I put this off as long as I could, staying a good hour beyond my normal clocking-out time, but eventually had to face it, donning my cycling kit from which the morning’s sweat had thankfully dried, leaving a particularly potent, masculine ‘musk’, behind. Lord help anyone that got in my slipstream.
On the way back, I discovered that my cycling route is on some kind of Escher’s staircase – it seemed to be uphill and against the wind all the way there, and then appeared to be uphill and against the wind all the way home again. It also goes through some sort of rift in the time/space continuum, as despite feeling as though I was cycling significantly faster on the way home (having been advised that the return journey would be “a breeze”), it still took me just as long (to the nearest 30 seconds).
That said, it was actually pretty pleasant, cycling home. It was just about dusk, so I got to see the wildlife come out to admire the sunset. I saw several rabbits, a possum (albeit dead), numerous squirrels, and a whole herd of deer, who gamboled across the cycle path in front of me, scaring the crap out of me before I collected myself, and freewheeled through them, trying not to breathe, in case I caused them to stampede over me. They look very cute, but I’m pretty sure they can do some damage with those hooves.
Anyway, I made it home safely. More or less. My big toes had turned yellow with cold on account of my insistence on wearing mesh trainers so that any water I cycle through drains straight out of them (I used to wear regular trainers, but they used to blow up like sponges whenever I went through a puddle), and now my legs seem to have lives of their own, but dammit, I did it. I fulfilled my new year’s resolution, and cycled into work. That should hold me over until 2014, when I might try it again…
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