"Get on your bikes and ride!"

Figuring that I need to do more to raise my heart rate than put more salt on my fries, I've been riding my bicycle lately in an effort to get more fit. I have a simple coaster-brake, beach cruiser that is a blast to ride. I rarely have a destination; the fun is in the journey. Besides, most destination trips would be problematic. For instance, I can't carry shopping bags and I wouldn't want to show up at work pouring sweat. Riding my bike makes me feel young again, racing across the town the same way my friends and I did in the pre-driver's license days. I know that I don't look young, however, and I think that explains the funny looks I get from passing drivers.

In auto-centric America people seem genuinely perplexed as to why I would ride a bike when I could drive. I get looks that say, "Oh look, that poor dear is too stupid to know that someone invented a machine made of steel, rubber and glass that allows you to travel without manually propelling yourself."

The second look I get is a mix of disdain and pity. "A bike? Well that guy must not have a car or worse yet, is homeless because otherwise he wouldn't be on a bike." Granted, I'm dressed neither for fashion nor obvious fitness cycling. (No spandex here, thank you.) A beat-up sweatshirt, ragged shorts, backpack and tobogan possess a tiny whiff of poverty. (Or coach of the New England Patriots.) On cold days I may even be forced to don that symbol of giving up on life-the sweatpant. I feel like showing the passing motorists that my bag is not loaded with all my belongings, but only some keys, a water bottle and a wallet that sometimes even has money in it.

If passing motorists think I ride because I must, there is another group that thinks my cycling is completely contrived. I sometimes cut across campus at off peak hours because it is one of the few places in town to ride without worrying about traffic. The students cast glances that say, "Nice try, buddy, but we know you're old. No luck fitting in here." I feel like a pervert suspected of riding across campus for the sole purpose of stealing glances at co-eds. Really, it's just becuase I prefer to not be hit by cars. (The exception-The first warm day of spring when every red-blooded man in town wishes he had a justifiable excuse to be on campus.)

The only demographic that gets me and my riding habit is the shabbily dressed walkers I pass on the road. A nod or wave welcomes me to their club of car-free travelers. Maybe they too are out for fitness or possibly to save some gas money. Nah, they are probably just homeless.