Today I had plans to meet a friend for brunch at 10. If it’s anywhere near 40, I said to myself, it’s the bike. The verdict from trusty iGoogle:
Hmm. I had my built-in excuse handy — no need to bike three miles in below-freezing temperatures. Instead, despite being late, I somehow found myself doing this:
I told myself that, sure, it was cold now, but with a high of 40 on the horizon, by the time I finished brunch and put in two hours at the office, it would be warm for my ride home (this theory turned out to be totally false). And after all, I’d ridden when it was this cold before, and that was usually in the dark.
So I set off.
Funny, but I didn’t realize how many brunch places were between my house and Noshville on Broadway until I was riding past them, shivering (my fault since I had thrown on my lightest jacket, thinking of that warm ride home that never happened). Why did we choose Noshville again? One woman I passed warned me to stay warm. “It’s trying to snow!” Wishful thinking, I thought, but I did see what looked like a couple of miniscule flakes fall after that.
The Vanderbilt campus is pretty hilly. For once I didn’t mind exerting myself.
The restaurant turned out to be further away than I’d thought (seems to be the case when you take the bike/car speed difference into account, something I never ever remember to do), but I finally made it. Corned beef hash and a bagel never tasted so good…