I can let my car sit and not worry. I can cross busy Clarksville Pike in the most unorthodox fashion possible, so long as I avoid bodily harm. I can almost get run over in the working parking lot.
These are the lessons from four days of bicycle commuting. There are more.
It turns out all the bicycling has been physically healthy but mentally taxing. It constantly draws out memories of all the places I used to ride and walk in Columbus. I forgot how regularly I rode the bike or walked - to the Pig Iron BBQ, to Dave's house for Monday night music sampling, down to Longview Barber Shop, to Comic Town on Morse Road, to my parents house in Gahanna.
This isn't just bleary-eyed nostalgia.
I catch sight of the dreary highway and industrial development outside my window plus the sometimes hostile streets beyond it, and and lose all interest in the casual walking or biking once so deeply ingrained in my routine.
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