Friday Coffee Club started when a tweet went out from Felkerino to #BikeDC  suggesting a Friday morning rendezvous at Swings Coffee, a local coffeehouse near the White House Plaza.

The original edition of Friday Coffee Club looked like this:

The Original FCC Meeting: Lane, Brian, me, Lisa and- taking the photo- Felkerino

Since that January 2012 meetup, Friday Coffee Club has grown steadily, with cyclists from various parts of the city stopping by Swings en route to the office or other Friday activities to sip coffee drinks and hang out together.

Now the group looks more like this on any given Friday:

It’s been such a treat to get to know the people of Friday Coffee Club. It’s a warm, friendly, and inviting group where all are welcome. You don’t even have to drink coffee (though it helps). Or ride a bike (also helps).

Photo by Felkerino

Photo by Felkerino

Felkerino and I joke that Friday Coffee Club is a group ride that is all about the rest stop. The only real group riding that happens is the “rollout,” where those who stay until the unofficial end of Friday Coffee Club roll out together from Swings and through the White House Plaza. That’s about two blocks of group riding in total.

Over the past year and a half that Friday Coffee Club has been a thing, we have experienced many firsts.

We celebrated our first anniversary.

We welcomed cyclists from other places.

Guest appearances from Washington state and Arizona

We have our first member who is even younger than Friday Coffee Club!

Baby Hugo. Friday Coffee Club’s youngest member

Today we celebrated another first, although this one was bittersweet. Our friends Crystal and Adam left today from Friday Coffee Club to begin their cross-country tour and move to California.

Crystal and Adam, one last obligatory D.C. photo by the White House (photo by Felkerino)

Like many of those I’ve come to know through Friday Coffee Club, I’ve enjoyed getting to know Crystal and Adam. Connections like these make the city a smaller place.

While I will really miss seeing Crystal and Adam around town, D.C. is a transient place where moving away is fairly common. Most people’s moves do not include a cross-country bike tour so their departure is particularly exciting.

Crystal and Adam will stay in touch with the BikeDC crew through Twitter as well as a blog of their adventure. I can’t wait to read about how their tour unfolds.

Thank you, Crystal and Adam, for launching your cross-country tour from Friday Coffee Club. It was a privilege to roll out with you Friday morning, and Felkerino and I wish you all the best on the exciting journey ahead of you.

On their way. Photo by Felkerino

We’ll miss you.

When I lived in the Midwest I drove most places, worked out erratically, and weighed 25 pounds more than I do now. I was focused on other things; fitness was not one of them.

After moving to Washington, D.C., life changed. My job had more of a regular schedule. Driving a car in the city was a hassle. I started to use Metro and walk most places.

Walking made me more observant of my surroundings and whenever I stepped outside I saw people running. On the National Mall, through Rock Creek Park, and down city streets. Morning, afternoon, day, and night. There was always someone running!

The runners’ energy was infectious, and I found myself joining them. At first I could only run a mile or two interspersed with lots of walking, but over time my body acclimated and I ran longer. It was a great feeling. Gradually, I began to consider myself a runner, too.

After steadily building my base mileage and finishing a couple of marathons, an injury halted my running progress. I hurt my plantar fascia, which meant weeks of no running. It was all I could do to walk to all of the places I needed. I reluctantly took up bicycling, since I did not want to lose the fitness I’d gained and bike riding did not pain my foot.

I thought I would only ride for as long as it took my foot to heal, but that ended up not being the case for various reasons (meeting my future randonneur- and real-life spouse Felkerino was one of the main ones, by the way).

In the process of picking up cycling, I lost my identity as a runner. From late 2004 through 2008, I barely ran at all. I was busy discovering randonneuring and bike touring.

Eventually, though, I missed running. Cycling was another good way to stay active, but its buzz was different. I missed running’s meditative benefits, and the way I looked at and experienced my surroundings when I ran.

I started to run again, steadily built my running base, and participated in a few marathons. Yet I still did not consider myself a runner. With cycling still dominating my leisure time, I defined myself as a cyclist who sometimes ran.

This past year I changed jobs. My new office abuts the National Mall. A few times a week I slip out of my office and knock out a few miles on that beautiful stretch of green space amid landmarks that people travel from all parts of the world to see.

When I first started doing my Mall runs I felt like a fake, as though everyone knew that I was a cyclist and didn’t belong. My running shoes were too new. I lacked the “been there, done that” t-shirts that others wore with pride. Of course, no one was thinking about me at all, but it’s all in how we see and define ourselves.

Despite feeling like a misfit, I kept throwing on my shoes, dialed in my route, and stuck with it. My path took on a pleasant familiarity. I watched the metal scaffolding on the Washington Monument go up and up and up and became an expert at dodging tourists without breaking stride. I saw the regular lunchtime Ultimate and soccer pickup games and the occasionally familiar faces of other runners.

Sometimes I tested how fast my legs could take me on my little loop. Other days I ran to just be out in the city and relax. Those simple runs through the bustle of downtown D.C. crept into my bones, and over the past six months of steady footsteps and changing seasons I sensed a change in how I saw myself.

I don’t run fast and my runs don’t take me very far. My form isn’t great. I don’t own many running event t-shirts. But none of that matters. I’m part of the D.C. running community. I’m a runner again.

Pennsylvania Avenue is one of the main thoroughfares of the District, particularly during the week. The stretch of road containing the bike lanes extends from the U.S. Capitol over to the Ellipse, and holds seven or eight lanes of traffic in many spots. It’s a giant road with a two-way bike lane running through the middle of it.

According to a Washington Post article, the lanes were installed in the middle of the road to “limit conflicts with buses, right-turning vehicles, parked vehicles and entrances on the right-hand side of the roadway.”

I sort of understand that. Before the bike lanes, I rode in the right-most traffic lane and had to contend with all of those issues. However, by placing the lanes in the middle of the street another conflict emerged– the U-turn conflict.

Taxis frequently travel Pennsylvania, dropping people off and picking up new fares. In order for them to do that most efficiently, these taxis do not want to take a circuitous route that avoids the bike lanes. Rather, they U-turn through the middle of the bike lane, despite it being prohibited.

In addition, cars frequently make illegal left turns at intersections along Pennsylvania which also cut directly through the bike lane.

My current office is located one block off of Pennsylvania Avenue and I used to take the bike lanes fairly frequently after work. In my previous job, the most direct route to my office meant a trip down the Pennsylvania Avenue bike lanes.

Since the lanes have been put in, people have made illegal left turns right in front of me and executed illegal U-turns dangerously close to me. I do not feel safe in the Pennsylvania Avenue bike lanes so I often avoid them.

Over time, it became so frustrating and frazzling to ride on Pennsylvania Avenue that I now either ride in the right-most lane and deal with the conflicts of buses, right-turning vehicles and other bull$h** on Pennsylvania or take one of the quieter side streets along the National Mall to avoid it.

Cyclists and others have clamored for more enforcement of illegal turning on Pennsylvania Avenue, but the city cannot (or does not want to) get a handle on it.

BikeDC friends have been hit in this lane and I’ve watched and been part of near misses. Every day, cars continue to make U-turns or illegal left turns through the bike lanes without regard for the cyclists who might be riding in them.

@bilsko in the bike lane. Photo by Felkerino/@dailyrandonneur.

I am all for improved cycling infrastructure in our city. Bike lanes send a tangible message that cyclists are here and have a place. In addition, I have read that an infrastructure of continuous bike lanes throughout a city (complete streets) helps facilitate more bicycling, and encourages more women to ride because they view the bike lanes as safer than being in the traffic lanes.

Previously these lanes were protected by bollards which controlled some of the U-turn riffraff (you can see them in the top two photos), but for some reason they were removed and the District Department of Transportation has not been replaced them; I don’t know why. The result is a bike lane with no bollards in the middle of the road and no physical deterrent to prevent cars from crossing through them.

As it stands now, the Pennsylvania Avenue bike lanes are not working for me. I do not feel safe riding in them and I don’t think that I should ride there thinking “One day my time will come and I’ll finally be hit by a car here, oh well.” It’s maddening to feel unsafe riding in one of the few places that is supposedly dedicated to bicycle traffic.

Every day, cyclists document illegal turns. I admire their persistence. However, the result of people’s efforts so far has not resulted in adequate enforcement or replacement of the bollards.  Maybe a few tickets are handed out, but overall behaviors have not changed. People continue to make illegal turns all along Pennsylvania Avenue.

Do we continue to fight day after day for this designated space in the middle of the road? Do we ride in the lanes despite the sense of compromise to our safety, or is it time to consider some other kind of change to the Pennsylvania Avenue bike lanes? You tell me because I really don’t know.

Riders at the 400K Brevet Start (Photo by Felkerino)

This past weekend Felkerino and I organized the D.C. Randonneurs 400K brevet. Of all the spring brevets the 400K is the one that, as a rider, I find most daunting. It starts at 4 a.m., and is the first of the brevets that requires hours of night riding. Riders roll out in the dark, and arrive in darkness, too.

I overhead the staff at the hotel where we staged our ride called our 400K a pizza party. That made me laugh. If the 400K could be considered a pizza party,  it’s likely the most hard-earned pizza you’ll ever eat.

This brevet was particularly challenging due to the dreary weather. Riders set off under dry skies, but that ended about an hour into the event and the remainder of the time was spent riding in rain, drizzle, a stint of no rain, more rain, and more drizzle. During the later evening hours, the rain let up and mist filled the sky, fogging up people’s glasses and making nighttime visibility more difficult.

The up-side of the day was that it was not terribly cold, although the temperatures did not allow riders to stop for long without getting chilled. Winds were also light for most of the route.

Happy finishers on the 400K

This course, called the “Firefly 400K,” was originally run in 2011. It is a loop that starts in Warrenton, Virginia, meanders down to Charlottesville, and back. Overall, the terrain is rolling with no major mountain climbs. That’s not to say that it is an easy course, only that there are no real mountains on it.

Twenty-six people came out for the event, and all but four riders finished within the time limit. Those who abandoned or did not officially finish all made it back to the hotel under their own steam.

Felkerino and I organized the club’s 400K last year as well, which ran out of Frederick, Maryland. While I preferred the Frederick course, we encountered logistical issues with start and finish locations, and moved the ride to Warrenton this year.

George Moore and Nick Bull pre-rode the course last weekend for us, and helped us in preparing the ride materials. Thanks to both of them for checking out the ride and being there for early morning bike inspection. It felt strange for Felkerino and I to not pre-ride the course ourselves, but we are taking a break from the “big rides” this year. More on that some other time.

Everyone who attempted the ride on Saturday has my admiration. The weather made an already challenging 252-mile ride that much more difficult. I know there are those few people who like to exclaim their love for riding in the rain, but I am not among them. I’ll take a sunny day over a rainy one almost any day.

I’ve been riding regularly with the D.C. Randonneurs since 2005, and it’s been educational to see what organizing a ride entails. Until organizing, I took a lot of the behind-the-scenes work for granted.

400K Registration and Check-in

I’ve gained a real appreciation for all the brevet details that must be managed. Control cards and cue sheets need to be made. A pre-ride of the course should be done. Volunteers need to be in place to register riders and inspect bikes for appropriate lighting and reflectives.

Food and supplies need to be purchased and set out. Most importantly, you need the pizza place on speed dial so that you can offer riders food at the end of that long effort.

Over a 400K distance, the field becomes quite spread out. Riders have 27 hours to complete the course.  This year, people finished in small groups of ones and twos between 9:30 p.m. until just before 6 a.m. The 400K is an all-night pizza party, you see, not a slumber party.

Organizing a ride is work, but it’s fun, too. It’s interesting to see all the riders in their various stages of lucidity before the ride start. Everybody has their own way of approaching these early mornings.

Some are outwardly excited and chat animatedly. Others are solemn and mostly silent. I see some riders who focus intently on their stuff, packing and repacking to make sure they have everything they need for the long day ahead.

After hours of waiting in between the roll-out and the final miles, the last control is also an exciting place to be. It’s a thrill to see riders successfully finish such a long ride. People are in various physical and mental states after riding that far.

Between Saturday night until Sunday morning I saw riders who just wanted to finish and immediately head off for a shower and sleep, and I also hung out with those who wanted to catch up from the last time we saw each other and relive some of the day’s experience.

A friend of ours once described volunteering at a brevet finish like being at a party where everyone is tipsy except for you. I see what he’s saying. The 400K is a big accomplishment, and there is something indescribable that’s released during the finish.

Take a combination of endorphins, relief from being done, the physical exertion from riding from 4 a.m. until dark and then some, and add a little sleep deprivation and you’ve got one goofy 400K pizza party.

400K Brevet Pizza Party

(The finish is also a time where organizers get feedback about the course. We have some lessons learned about this course which the club will keep in mind for next year.)

Going from rider to organizer you  interact with riders that you might not otherwise, due to your differences in pacing and style. For Felkerino and me, that meant we got to share a little bit in everyone’s ride.

Several riders completed their first 400K this past weekend. Of those, I want to give a special shout-out to our rando-buddy Mike Binnix of Severna Park. Mike attempted a 400K last year, but was unable to go the full distance.

This year, I knew Mike was going to make it. He had unfinished business with the 400K and I could hear in his voice when we talked at registration that he was all in on this ride, determined to finish. Twenty-six hours and 252 miles after departing Warrenton, Mike finished his first 400K. Well done, Mike. I’m really happy for you!

Mike B. finishes the 400K

Congratulations to everybody who rode this weekend and to all the finishers. Thanks for letting us be part of your adventure. We had a great time hosting the 400K brevet and pizza party.

I perused the frames as though I was at an art exhibit. See bike. Stop. Pause. Absorb. Repeat. A variety of pretty pieces that caught my eye.

One bike, though, stopped me in my tracks as I drifted through the exhibit area. I don’t know how it happened. One minute I was looking at a Stanridge adorned with Swift Industries panniers and the next I found myself standing completely transfixed, in front of this bike. THE bike.

The bike, a Rick Jones, had been painted in two colors, a pearly light lavender contrast with a darker shade that fell just shy of purple. Its tubing was sleek. The lugs integrated seamlessly into the rest of the bike. In looking at the bike, I sensed that it had been made with great care. I was mesmerized by the way the seat stays extended from the top tube toward the rear of the bike.

The divine sted stood apart from all the others in the room. My encounter was like one of those moments you see in a movie, where a spotlight shines down on THE ONE THING that you know is meant for you, and the Hallelujah Choris can be heard in the background. In my mind, I saw myself on this bike, and it was perfect.

As I stood bewildered by the bike’s beauty, the builder came over and introduced himself. Rick Jones from Long Island. I enthusiastically expressed how much I liked his bike and asked Felkerino if he would take my picture with him. In five minutes, I had become a Rick Jones groupie.

I learned from talking with Rick and from his website that he grew up around bikes, runs a bike shop in New York, and has been building bikes for a few years. You can read more of his story at www.RickJonesBicycles.com.

Rick’s bike aesthetic suited me. I like bikes that are fine, but not precious. I want to get my bike dirty without thinking that I’ve compromised it somehow. I also want to own a bike that I consider attractive.

My visceral response to this bike took me by surprise. I have generally pooh-poohed those who want a bike made by a custom builder. Why would you go custom if you can get the overall size, feel, and look you want from a stock frame? Why does it matter who cut the tubes for your bike and then turned it into a bicycle, as long as your bike fits you and meets your cycling intentions?

After seeing Rick Jones’s bikes I had a change of heart. Being able to connect a bike back to the person who crafted it gives the bike a unique history and feel.  There is an incomparable pride of ownership in that.

Second, bike love is not rational. Yes, you could make do with another and you would have a good life together. But a part of you will always wonder how it would have worked out if you could have been with that one bike.

All photos courtesy of Felkerino. Find the full set from Cirque on his flickr page.

Photo by Felkerino

With the D.C. area’s celebration of riding your bike to work known as Bike to Work Day happening this Friday, I’m revisiting some inspiring words from the #BikeDC cyclists I interviewed several months ago.

One of several questions I asked of this group was:

What word or phrase describes your D.C. bicycling experience?

I love this question because cycling can mean so many different things to people. Yet common themes also exist among us. Below is what some of the members of #BikeDC had to say in response to that question.

Life-changing!

-Marc M.

Maturity. I was still a neophyte to bicycling when I arrived at DC, and I feel I’m learning more and more about city and recreational cycling as I go. I think my experience here has been about growing up, and it’s been a supportive environment to learn.

-Lisa

Fun. I always have fun on my bike.

-Joan

Rootchopper and Lisa by the Georgetown Waterfront (Photo by Felkerino)

Educational. I’ve started actually thinking about infrastructure and culture and how communities can thrive if our government systems take more than just the car into consideration.

-Laura

Getting better all the time — in most respects.

-Leslie

Grateful. I’m grateful to have the kind of cycling environment that I get to share with my daughter. It’s a warm community with welcoming places to ride.

-Chris

Freedom!

-Kate and Kirstin

Justin and John on Pennsylvania Avenue (Photo by Felkerino)

What are you waiting for? Tell me what word sums it up for you, and let’s all go ride our bikes! Maybe I’ll see you out during Bike to Work Day?

P.S. Thanks again to everybody who participated in the original #BikeDC Speaks series.  

This edition was particularly exciting, as 1. the bike was for me; and 2. I purchased the frame and fork in June of last year, but took another ten months to get the parts for the bike in order.

The bike I purchased is a Rawland Nordavinden, designed by Rawland Cycles out of Danvile, California. Unlike the Rawland dSogns that Felkerino and I own which are a mix between a mountain and cross bike, the Nordavinden is meant to be a fast-ish touring “all road” bicycle.

Photo by Felkerino

While I think it could be a little duplicative of my Rivendell Romulus in some ways, the Nordavinden appealed to me for several reasons.

I wanted an attractive steel bike with a responsive feel that I could use for commuting, century bike rides, and the occasional 200K brevet. The Nordavinden is an icy blue-gray color with attractive decals and a little lug work on the fork and rear dropouts. I’m not a huge fan of lugs, but I find the lugs on this nice looking. As for the bike’s feel, I have only ridden it a total of four miles so I will get back to you on that.

Unlike my Rivendells, the Nordavinden is designed to eliminate toe overlap. That has not been a big deal on my Rivendells, but it can be annoying, particularly when riding in the city and do a lot of inevitable stopping and starting.

There is versatility in the tire widths I can use on this bike, with the maximum tire width being 35s. I could take this bike on dirt if I wanted, or keep it on the road. It’s nice to have choices. I am still deciding on what tires (both type and width) I will use. I don’t like spending a lot of money on tires, but I also want the ride to have a good feel. Suggestions?

The Nordavinden is also made to take fenders. Yippee! Even though I sometimes dream of riding a fenderless road bike without a care in the world about a little rain, I know how I am. If I can avoid a rooster tail by applying full fenders, I will do it.

The bike’s price point suited my budget, with the frame and fork retailing for $725. Felkerino and I used as many parts as we could from the Dining Room Bike Shop to help with the overall cost of building up the bike.

Another preliminary shot of the Nordavinden

The Nordavinden will take a light load. It’s not a touring bike, though. In fact, it’s designed to take a front load. I’ve never been a huge fan of the big porteur bag, but I will likely use one on the Nordavinden. I’m still working through my front bag options. Do you have any ideas? For the moment, the bike has a small Carradice seatpack on the rear.

College Park Bicycles did a great job taking all of the parts and getting the bike to where it is now. I will go into the parts spec some other time; I don’t have the bike finalized yet so explaining it would be premature. Also, I’m not a huge gear head so keep your expectations in check. It was a fun group project to put this bike together, though, so I will do a build post at some point.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll be dialing in the fit of the Nordavinden and getting a feel for how it rides. I’ll keep you posted.

A Terrifying Beginning

When I was a kid, I developed a serious apprehension about dogs. This feeling was exacerbated when I rode my bike, largely because one of the rural roads I often traveled was also home to Snoopy, the big mean biting dog.

Snoopy was always in her yard, lying in wait for innocent targets like my sister and me. As we approached, Snoopy would charge across her lawn and out into the road.

Her mission was always simple and scary: bite children’s ankles as much as possible.

Fear welled up inside me at the sight of Snoopy, and I would always yell at her, in what I’m sure she heard as a terrified tone. “Back, Snoopy! No!”

Snoopy knew I was bluffing, and stayed focused on the prize that was my ankle, or any other part of me that she could nip on.

Because encounters with Snoopy, the big mean biting dog, occurred so regularly during my early cycling years, I grew up thinking that all dogs in the country were:

1. Unchained; and
2. Ready and raring to eat me if just given the chance.

I grew up and moved away from rural life. I eventually settled in Washington, D.C., and Snoopy the big mean biting dog, became a fuzzy memory.

Until I took up randonneuring, that is. Through cycling with the D.C. Randonneurs, I was re-introduced to rural life, Mid-Atlantic edition.

On my first rides through the countryside, memories of Snoopy loomed large whenever I spotted a dog or heard one yowling in the distance.

Over time, though, I realized that not all country dogs are like Snoopy, the big mean biting dog. In fact, most are not. My completely unscientific study of them over the years has shown that a variety of dogs exist in the country, and they often make for quite pleasant encounters. Not always, but enough that I don’t equate all dogs to Snoopy.

Here’s a sampling of the dogs I’ve come across on rides. I’m sure I missed at least one or two so please let me know in the comments. I do not want any country dog feeling left out!

The Bluffer

These dogs are often on the small side and know that, at a minimum, they must defend the fort with the fiercest barks they can muster.

As soon as they discover a cyclist passing by, they launch themselves out of the yard and position themselves either at the end of their property or on the road and begin howling away.

While the barks themselves might intimidate, the fact that they are coming out of a fluffy dog that you know you could clearly deal with if needed makes them easily managed encounters.

Bluffers do not extend much, if at all, beyond their property lines and clearly do not want to make physical contact. Rather, they want to establish who is they mayor of their turf and it is not you.

The Runner

The majority of dogs I’ve met on rides are runners. They see cyclists passing by their home and it makes them want to stretch their legs, too.

“Hi cyclists! Where are you going? Let us keep you company for a bit,” their actions seem to say.

Dog action shot. The runner.

Some runners are restrained from the road by the invisible fence collar gadget, which only allows them to run alongside you at a distance from the comfort of their own yard. Others have no restraints, happily bark out a welcome, and then take great pleasure in running either alongside you on the road (for the intrepid) or along the shoulder (for the more timid dog that lives in an area where there actually is a shoulder).

These dogs are lots of fun to see on rides. They mean no harm, don’t veer perilously toward you or your bike, and just want to share in a few paces of your adventure.

Chained-Up Wild Card

Lots of dogs I see in the country are leashed or restrained by a fence (either electric or wooden) around their property. They have space to run, but unless they break through the fence, they are yard-bound.

Occasionally, I also pass dogs that have been chained up, leashed, or kenneled. While I am glad to know that these dogs cannot accost me, seeing them restrained this way also saddens me.

What kind of life is that? I wonder. It does not seem like a good life for a dog. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the country where space was a given and most dogs were not leashed.

That said, the barks of some of these dogs and the forcefulness with which they pull against whatever device confines them to their yard makes me think it might be better for them to be leashed than roaming freely. These are the wild card dogs. You do not know what they would do if they were free.

The Naïve Puppy

If you see a dog that you discern is a puppy, watch out! The kind of puppies I’m talking about are those that are the equivalent of teenage puppies. They’ve hit their physical growth spurt, but have not yet learned the ways of the world or, more importantly, the road.

Naïve puppies are overwhelmed with excitement when they see humans on two wheels riding by. Propelled by a primal puppy energy passed down from canine generations past they only know their purpose is get out there and do… something when they see you. What that something is, they’re usually not sure.

They might run alongside you, and then swerve toward your bike in a spontaneous urge to smell it. Or bite it. Or lick it.

If you happen to meet up with a naïve puppy on an uphill, they could run ahead of you, and then make a u-turn right in front of you (sort of like the tourists do around here).

If a car comes from the other direction, it completely throws them, as they are still learning the ways of traffic flow and the danger of cars. Do they try to lick the car (bad idea, BAD IDEA!), get out of the car’s way, get in your way, or what. The naive puppy does not know.

Despite their sketchy moves, puppies are usually a lot of fun to see. They’re enthusiastic and brimming with energy. However, their unpredictability poses a concern for us cyclists. Nobody wants to collide with a dog.

The Retiree

While these dogs might have been runners or bluffers in a previous life, they are too mature for that stuff now. Now when a cyclist goes by, they don’t lift an eyebrow. Or maybe they only lift an eyebrow.

Felkerino befriends a retiree

These are the dogs you find lying in the driveway or the front yard, soaking up the morning sun and possibly napping. Even if you shout a good morning greeting their way, you’re unlikely to get much of a reaction from them.

The Silent Type

Silent types are the dogs I fear most. These dogs mean business, and when I mean business, they want to bite you.

When they spy a cyclist, they move as stealthily as possible in their direction. They would not dare bark or make their presence known, as they know that the element of surprise is critical to their success in getting as close to you as possible.

EEEEEEEEEEEKK!!!

Silent types are often mid-sized and I would categorize them as mean-spirited, probably because I take umbrage with them viewing me as their prey.

In my years of riding, I’ve only met a few silent types. Fortunately, they never attacked me nor did they make contact with my bike. However, they sure did scare the BEEP out of me.

A Change of Heart

When I initially began riding in the country after years of living in urban areas, I hoped that everybody’s dog would be fenced or restrained. I’ve had a change of heart since then, at least when it comes to most dogs.

Hi buddies!

As long as they do not dive in front of the bike or hurl themselves between my wheels, avoid leaping toward any of my body parts with their jaws open, and act somewhat predictably (like a good cyclist would) I’m really alright with them.

They’ve spiced up many a ride and some have been fun to ride alongside, even if only for a few tenths of a mile.

Surely you have met a few dogs of your own on a ramble in the country. Which ones did I miss?

Being a creature of habit, I did not take a day off after running last Sunday’s marathon. I stoicly made my way to the gym for a core class. It would be a perfect post-marathon workout, I thought, as it would not involve the legs too much and I could continue steadily on my path of fitness.

I was correct in assuming the class was not leg-intensive. However, I overlooked that my run the day before had been pretty impactful on my body, especially to my core/abdominals.

On some level I knew this, but I felt so awesome after the run that I did not want the feeling to end. I figured the only way to keep the endorphin rush going was to head to the gym for more activity.

Everything started out okay, but about 20 minutes into my 45-minute class, my energy began to seep out of me. I made it through that core class, but only by gritting my teeth and gutting it out (literally).

After leaving class, fatigue continued to wind its way through my body. The intense activity during the last 45 minutes had tipped me over the edge of exuberance into a pool of post-event exhaustion.

The rest of the day I spent feeling oddly languid. Nothing bothered or stressed me. I reveled in my post-event accomplishment, content from having completed the marathon and exceeding my time goals. I signed up for another marathon that evening. Man, I love post-event bliss.

However, post-event bliss always ends, and this time was no exception. The next day I felt even more fatigued. A pain in my right quad was hanging around. Frustrated, I took the day off from the gym.

Wednesday, I ran a low-key three miles. My breathing was often ragged, as though I was pushing myself too hard. My heart rate was messed up, pounding from an easy effort. My quad, which I thought would feel better through the run, complained softly throughout and never loosened up.

I also lost control of my diet around mid-week, grabbing quick-energy sugary foods and fatty cheese. I even broke down one day and munched a few potato chips. That bummed me out even more.

What was wrong with me? I had been doing such a great job with my diet, just achieved my personal best marathon time, and here I was stuffing myself with junk while my body ached. Post-event blues.

The post-event blues happen to me almost every year around this time. I am inspired and invigorated by all of the physical activity of spring, and it suddenly morphs into something else.

I know the post-event blues are coming on the heels of post-event bliss, but not exactly when. Upon reflection I understand what’s happened… after I’ve eaten the junk I didn’t really want or need and tried to push myself when I should have taken a rest day. Or two.

Do others experience this? If so, how do you manage it? Is there any way to ward it off? Suggestions welcome.

I would like to do a better job of handling the post-event blues. I believe they are quite common among those who participate in endurance events. After all, many of us are avidly pursuing the endorphin rush only achieved through sweet excess.

The Bike Commuter Code has spurred a lot of insightful conversations and comments from fellow commuters. Brian, of Tales from the Sharrows, even wrote his own post about my post which you can find here—meta blogging!

Thank you to everyone who contributed their ideas. After reading all the tweets, comments and emails I have a clarification and some additions to make to the Bike Commuter Code.

First, the clarification. The code is what I have actually observed in the city in terms of how commuters deal with each other. Yes, there are some “should do’s” thrown in, but for the most part the code is just trying to capture “what is,” and general sentiments about commuting. As I said in the original post, it is not really the rules of the road, although those are definitely in play whenever we ride.

Based on people’s feedback, I have made seven Bike Commuter Code additions:

16. There seems to be no code when it comes to obeying traffic rules. Credit to Charlie for this one. Some commuters stop at stoplights and some do not. Also, just because the person in front of you ran the light, doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to follow suit.

17. ”Ninja bikers “– those who ride without lights at night– are no friend of the general commuting population, as Rambling Rider notes. During the more temperate spring and fall seasons, which also coincide with the new bike rider seasons, there is an increase in ninja commuters. As a result, there is also  an increase in angry tweets about these #ninjabikers. Get a headlight and a taillight and get with the program, ninja bikers.

18. Some commuters really like to practice trackstands at stoplights, as Rachel and Portajohn said. I had never noticed this, but after reading their comments, I observed someone desperately attempting a one-minute trackstand on my commute home.

Trackstands do not make a person more special or righteous, and after a point they are silly. However, as I said, some people really like to practice them. Portajohn also has a rather detailed theory about the Bike Commuter Code of Trackstand Superiority which can be found in the original Bike Commuter Code post.

19. Hand signals are helpful to other cyclists as well as cars. Credit to #bikeDC tweep @nikki_d. Not everyone uses them. Also, it is common and acceptable to stick your right arm straight out to indicate a right turn, as opposed to hoisting your left arm at a right angle. The latter is a remnant of car signaling, and bikes are not cars.

20. People in Washington, D.C., are less friendly (overtly, anyway) than in other places. Andrew says that in Australia, fellow commuters will say “g’day” if passing each other. Craziness! And Deb says that the commuters in the D.C. burbs will chat at stoplights. More craziness!

21. Commuters who encounter other “regulars” on their commute will generally acknowledge each other in some way. At least, Rootchopper says they will.

22. If you see a cyclist on the side of the road with their bike and possibly fiddling with it, it is customary to ask “Do you have everything you need?” or “Alright?” as dasgeh commented. While most commuters carry the tools and supplies they need for those inconvenient mechanicals, cyclists will help each other out when necessary.

Thank you for reading, and for your additions and thoughts on the Bike Commuter Code. Remember you are all special and righteous, and have a great weekend!