Scott Martin

When my non-cycling friends - yes, I still have a few - ask why I ride so much, I never know what to say.

"It's, uh, great exercise," I mumble. "Fun, too. And easy on the joints. Oh, and there's all that fresh air. Um, good for the planet. Plus, it's really great exercise."

Now I've decided it's the little things that make cycling such a big deal for me. Little things like :
• Getting home from a tough ride just as it starts to rain. You shower, eat, put on your fluffy slippers and watch the deluge. Nyah-nyah.
• Admiring how your once-filthy chain sparkles after cleaning the drivetrain.
• Cresting that nasty hill on your favorite loop, and looking down to see that you did it in one gear higher than you thought you were using.
• Riding past a store window and realizing that the pro-looking cyclist in the reflection is you.
• Finishing that last, gut-busting interval of the day.
• Discovering the source of that annoying squeak - and terminating it.
• Casually rolling your arm warmers down to your wrists at the base of a climb, then nonchalantly pulling them back up as you cross the summit and head down the other side. You suave devil, you.
• Getting home from a long ride, opening the fridge, grabbing your specially stashed chocolate milk - the perfect recovery drink, honest - and feeling that cold, creamy, brown liquid slide down your parched throat.
• Basking in the unshakeable mellowness that envelopes you after a long, hard ride. You drive to the store and some cell phone-jabbering idiot in an SUV cuts you off. No problem.
• Wiping that disgusting saliva-and-snot trail off your top tube -- proof positive that you did an honest workout.

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