After a two week break, I am back on the trainer. I had a nice leisurely ride yesterday while the kids slurped down ramen noodles and ate clementines.

I entertained them pretending to be a lion training to ride a bicycle in a circus.

I am sore after restarting training but it’s a good sore. I can’t wait to work out some more this afternoon.

Now I have a question. Why is the seat of your bicycle called a saddle but there is a seat post not a saddle post?

My son borrowed my daughters Skuut for a few weeks in the late summer and it made all the difference when he attempted to ride his big boy bike. Now a couple months have passed and it is getting harder and harder to convince him that he needs to be in the bike trailer with his sister.

“But Mom, I can use my coaster break and I don’t fall off my bike anymore,” he pleads.

I try to tell him he isn’t old enough to ride to the grocery store. After all, he is only five. We have friends that didn’t start riding a bike until they were almost in middle school (some of them actually were in middle school).

So, we started these small trips. Instead of just letting him ride from one end of the block to the other, he can ride to the cookie store or to the Chinese grocer.

Now, those little trips to get soy sauce aren’t enough.

So, we took his bike to the park and let him ride the bike trail. He rode seven miles. SEVEN MILES! We only left because it was getting dark and neither me nor my husband had lights with us. He rode his bike up and down the block when we got home.

Yesterday, he convinced his father to take him to Cherokee Street Bikes since daddy needs a new bottom bracket. He only had one crash, and daddy had three. I guess it’s hard to pedal behind a five year old when you have cycling shoes on your feet.

Sometimes when it gets too dark to ride on the sidewalk outside, I let him ride on our trainer. He loves the trainer. He pretends he is doing a sprint workout and that I am his coach. He refuses to call me mom at these times.

He told me yesterday that riding his bike was his favorite thing to do, ever.

He always lists riding his bike as his favorite thing of the day. It’s a good day if he biked.

However, it’s December and it is only going to get colder. How can I help him with his love of cycling when, hopefully, there is snow on the ground?

So, this past weekend the Handlebar hosted both the sale your shit Sunday and Frankenbike events to make for a rummage sale extravaganza. I ended the day with most of my Christmas shopping completed and with a pair of Pearl Izumi cycling shoes.

Earlier this year I swore I didn’t need clips and straps. However, after I got over the initial shock of running my bike into the back of a parked tow truck on my first day of use I did eventually warm up to them. So much so, that I found I couldn’t ride my old Hollywood cruiser without attempting to end my own life when my feet kept slipping off of the pedals.

Now, I have cycling shoes. Something I NEVER thought that I would use, myself.

I made fun of all the roadies riding around town with their goofy death-traps. The funny way they waddled through the grocery store because they could never imagine a run to get some more cliff bars and bananas without the complete get up.

Now, I feel that I am becoming one….

I feel a strong urge from within wanting my own bib shorts and jersey.

It is hard to imagine that last summer I biked with ballet flats and long flowing skirts without a care in the world. I wonder where that girl is hiding?

Oh well, now I can go fast!