My other bike is jealous.

I’ve ridden the Brompton almost exclusively since I got it. I don't have the luggage system yet because the shop had run out of them at the time that I bought the bike. So I’ve been using a backpack — not ideal, but functional. One day when it was too hot to wear a backpack and I needed extra tote space, I rode my old bike which has a rear rack and a basket. The feeling was similar to switching back to a car after you’ve grown used to riding a bike – like decadent excess. And its wheels felt so HUGE! So slow to go around! And the bike itself is such a TANK. So much squishier than the Bromp. Not so nimble. Like dancing with some clod in hiking boots.

In addition to all that, I was suddenly ordinary again. No admiring stares, no envious looks, no emphatic comments, no awe, no amazement, no show-off opportunities. No nothing.

I had thought all that would get old in a hurry, but it hadn’t yet.

All of a sudden I was a little brown mouse on a brown plain, whereas I’d gotten used to being a tropical bird in a lush emerald jungle.

I switched back to the Brompton the very next day.

This is awfully fun, but I may have completely ruined the other bike. I feel bad.

The Effect of Motivation on Exercise

Somewhere over the decades I got the screwy idea into my head that it's only exercise if you're wearing exercise clothes and the time slot on your calendar says "work out." And no fair getting anything else accomplished at the same time. Among other sources, I actually read this in some magazine years ago -- that you can't count activities like vacuuming your entire house or gardening as exercise. I found that so discouraging.

I'm an extremely thorough vacuumer, but after that, whenever I vacuumed, even though I was super tired afterwards, I had this underlying awareness that it didn't really count. Good grief, with that in your mind it probably doesn't count -- because I think your psychological state really matters. Now, when I get ready to vacuum, I jump into it as if it were a workout. In fact, next time I do it I'm going to wear the heart monitor and do it as fast as I can. Just watch, next thing you know vacuuming will show up in Sports Illustrated. (Everyone always copies me.)

I used to ride all the way across town several times a week to withdraw into my hidey hole and write. Took me half an hour each way. Nowadays, since I'm always going out to work in Gresham, I don't get over to my hidey hole as much.

The ride to the train to Gresham only takes ten minutes. I'd been feeling horrible about this, and thinking that ten minutes was so short as to be worthless. But according to the heart monitor, even though it's a third the time it's far from worthless. Especially given that I leave the house so late I have to ride like......like my clothes are on fire. Which brings me back to yesterday's theme: Did I say that you'd have to ignite my clothing to get me to move quickly? I meant that I have to have a real reason. The reason can't be something like "See this line? You have to make it over this line ahead of all these other people." That's a fake reason. When I hear that, every molecule in my body answers: "No I don't. If I don't make it over that line, nothing bad will happen."

Whereas, if I didn't get to work on time, undesirable eventualities would occur.

New Toy: Heart Monitor/ Lie Detector

Yes. I finally bought one. Been meaning to try this for a long time. Expensive. but interesting. I'm finding out two things: 1, I'm lazier than I even thought. 2, I actually get quite a lot of exercise in my ordinary daily life.

One thing I've never been is competitive, especially in the physical arena. If someone else wants to get there first, I'll gladly step aside -- it makes absolutely no difference to my self-esteem. The good side is that if you are someone for whom getting there first is a peak experience, you're guaranteed to have one if you exercise with me. The downside is that you'd have to ignite my clothing to get me to move quickly.

This isn't the best situation in terms of getting my heart beating. My resting heart-rate (= on waking up) is about 52. I would love to let you think that this means I'm a great athlete, but in my case it means that : my heart is slow. I try to make myself exercise reasonably hard because I know it's good for the bod. Here's where the heart monitor comes in -- lots of times I'll think I'm working my tail off but when I check the heart monitor it says, "Actually, no, you're not."

I've entered all my settings -- my age and weight and all that -- so it's not that it's comparing me to other people. I've established my "zones" of where I should be in order to burn fuel. The ugly truth is that I'm a slug trapped in the body of a human. Occasionally someone tells me that I look like I'm in shape, and though I thank them, inside I feel like an impostor

But back to the good news:

I've been measuring my rides to and from the MAX station and guess what? That really IS exercise! It really counts. It's short, but I do it four times each work day - home to train, train to work, work to train, and train to home.

Next: Whatever gets your heart beating. (Should I take up coffee?)