Today when I got into town on the van, my bike helmet and rear light had been stolen. Not totally surprising, as they were the two bits of bike least well attached. Frankly, it’s somewhat of a relief to have the helmet stolen, as it was cracked in a couple of places and I should’ve gotten a new one months ago.
But I had an odd reaction, or at least it seemed odd to me; I feel even more committed to my commute rides. Because I had this immense sense of sadness about not being able to ride tomorrow (even if I could wear C’s helmet, I won’t ride in near-dark without a rear light), and I realized that it’s become a habit, something I’m accustomed to doing and that I enjoy a great deal. Three weeks, I suppose, is just about the magic point.
So I’m not going to ride tomorrow, but I’m going to plan on what I really need to be a serious bike commuter, what kind of kit will get me through the winter, and I’m going to make sure that — somehow — I put it together.
Also, on a similar note, I made lasagna again tonight, and forgot an ingredient (hot water) and it still turned out pretty damn good. So failure is treating me well today.