So, today we loaded the bikes in the car intending to head up to Skyline Boulevard — the top of the Oakland hills — for a nice, quiet, winding, not too hilly “recovery ride” of maybe 10 miles. It was so sunny and clear and warm when we left the house.

It was Antarctica when we got up to Skyline. And we without any layers to speak of.

But wanting to get my ride on, as the kids might say these days, or not, I saddled up and off we went. For five minutes. I was very cold. Very very cold. But we were moving, and that was good.

We turned around and went back to the car. But I didn’t want to give up. So we went for another five minutes past the car, and then we turned around again.

Basically, while I’m riding, I vascilate between scared, and compulsive/obsessive/inspired/stick-to-it-ive. So while I was extremely concerned that I might decide I am too cold and tired at a point further away from the car than I could handle riding back to, I also didn’t want to stop.

I’d say that this is a 1-to-5 scale that I am on at any given moment, while on a bike: I’m concerned for my safety and comfort (1), or totally motivated to go go go (5).

When we came up to the car a second time, I was ready to give in to the cold (1). So we drove home. But I wasn’t ready to give up (5). So we put on our layers, and got on our bikes and rode down our street (5), up the big scary street with lots of cars (2), across a big hill through a residential neighborhood (3) to the next shopping district (3), bought lunch supplies, and rode home, ending with the long slow steep ascent in granny gear back to our house (3) which I managed to do without giving up, and with only stopping for breath once.

Woo-hoo!

The song that played in my head today was “Patience” by Guns ‘N’ Roses. Also heard a snippet of “Little Sister” by Michelle Shocked. Pretty soon, I’ll have an iPod biking playlist. And then I suppose I’ll have to get an iPod.