I was worried I wouldn’t still like riding my bike around, and then I’d lose access to the part of myself that likes riding my bike around. And then I thought to myself, if you don’t like riding your bike around anymore, that’s ok! Things change! You’ll always have enjoyed that, it will always have made your life so much more interesting, and you can be on to the next thing. It’s like getting a tattoo–what if I regret it? But regret or not, it will always have marked who you were at that moment, and that’s a record worth keeping.

And then I rode my bike, and it felt amazing to be able to do it, but then it was cold and windy and I didn’t ride. This week, I got to do my regular old commute on Monday and Wednesday, and Wednesday’s ride-yeah, I got home from that and was like, I FUCKING LOVE RIDING MY BIKE. I love it. I rode home through West Baltimore, snapped this pic at Fremont and Mosher when I hopped off my bike to take off my sweatshirt. Looked up, looked around, so grateful to live here, now, to get to see that sky and that truck labeled SuperEgo, those trees that will bloom soon, those row houses, GREATEST CITY IN AMERICA.

It would be fine if things had changed and my mind and body no longer wanted to ride a bike. But wowzers, what a relief that my bike is a guaranteed good and interesting time, and that I can trust my body enough to tool around and visit neighborhoods I haven’t been able to bike around in months and months.

Now I’m off to Miami on a vacation to celebrate not having cancer again at the moment. I have bike tour booked for Monday, and I can’t wait. There’s so much that is terrible, but also, ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive. Can’t steal my joy, no, no, no you can’t.