Day 4: Not just another pretty pace

Day 4 miles to/from work: 26.8
Total miles for S4S: 117.0

The trouble with the world today is plain to see,
Is everything is hurry-hurry-hurry-hurry up.
It's rush it through, and don't be slow,
And BLT on rye to go,
With coffee (I think she said)
Coffee (I know she said)
Coffee in a cardboard cup.

The first order of business is to note passing the Sweatin' for Shelter cumulative 100-mile mark on this morning's ride in. Wooohooo! I can't remember the last time I biked 100 miles in a week. My legs are feeling a little stiff and stubborn and going a bit slower, but overall, not bad.

The day started almost identically to yesterday weather-wise—sunny and beautiful with temps in the mid-40s at departure. It was another perfect day to be on a bike.

The self-powered commute gives plenty of time for contemplation, if telling oneself bad jokes can be called "contemplation". Remember this one from junior high? "I'm built backwards. My nose runs, and my feet smell." It frequently comes to mind since something about exercise does make my nose run. When I'm biking, I usually keep a bandanna gripped in one hand, and use it frequently . Today I forgot the bandanna. (Unlike yesterday, I did remember all of my lunch, and packed slacks of an appropriate length for a professional appearance.) This means, Faithful Blog Reader, that today we are going to discuss blowing snot rockets, the act in which I was forced to engage in the absence of my bandanna. I notice that, unless you are a cyclist or runner already on intimate terms with this term, you are cringing. Would you prefer I continue to belabor the sweat issues? Hey, we're doing physical stuff here! The body's workin' and makin' by-products. This is very practical, and sometimes necessary information.

For those of you I didn't lose in the previous paragraph, snot rocket is an official term listed in the Urban Dictionary. However, I don't think they describe it well enough, so I will embellish their definition with instruction.

1. Press an index finger against the side of one nostril to close it off.
2. Turn your head as far as possible to the side of the open nostril. 
3. Blow air out the open nostril with everything you have, sending a snot projectile out of the nose.

If you do this well, it will go onto the ground and not into your shoulder. I'm still working on perfecting this maneuver. Fortunately, all of my biking clothes are washable. Please be grateful that I am posting no photos or images to accompany this tutorial, but feel free to Google them yourself.

Despite the missile-like speed implied with the launching of a snot rocket, everything about this project and biking to work is antithetical to our cultural need for speed. From the crib we are rushed. Hurry! is the watchword. Do it faster, more efficiently. Be quick. I'm late! Gotta run. Even in self-propelled sports we're looking for our PRs (personal records) and seeking to shave seconds from the time it takes us to get from Point A to B. It is habitual. When I drive, I am constantly frustrated by slower motorists who block my way from a speedier trip. This hurriedness is a habit, if not an addiction. For the most part, we're numb to it—until we slow down.

It takes me three times as long to get to work on the bike as in a car. In the past when I have biked, it was decidedly slower than a car; but I'm not sure it slowed me down since I would go hell for leather to make the best time possible. Then as now I loved the feel of crisp fresh air and the beauty around me. Now as then, I push myself to exertion when I pedal. But knowing I'll be sharing the experience with you, I observe more closely. I stop to take pictures. Between the pace of the bike and the focused attention to my surroundings, I have come to treasure the luxury of slow, the seduction of leisurely, the allure of unhurried. It seeps into my pores and it brings a new life with it. I hope you're not tired of my gushing gratefulness for your part in this; but if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be stopping to take pictures or savoring the full experience as I am.

As with the morning ride in, the ride home was a carbon copy of yesterday. Seventy degrees and beautiful. The only difference was that Scott biked over and met me near the University; so I had some great companionship for the last 6 miles home. It hardly seems possible, but it made the ride even better and more beautiful.

Thank you for reading this, for your support of Dane County Humane Society, and for slowing down with me for a few moments. Contemplate. Tell yourself a bad joke. Blow a snot rocket. It's all part of the trip.