Is it illegal or fattening to be this happy?

No?

Oh good.really up for me (good and bad). Tomorrow I may be writing about the bad (God, I hope not). But for this moment: happiness.

I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m so happy today. Why today? What’s different? It’s true that I’ve had a sunny internal weather system going for awhile now but today I felt: off-the-charts-happy.

I think it has to do with my bike.

And the fact that I spent most of today on it.

I was having dinner with Katie on Friday night and I found myself going on and on with her about my bike–I was gushing about it the way I would about some guy (if I was in love, which I’m not) or some great victory (like finally figuring out when/where/if I’m going away in January, which, sorry folks, I haven’t yet).

But there I was gushing while happily eating my spicy tuna roll and drinking my green tea. With Katie looking at me a bit like I’ve gone off my rocker.

I found myself saying, “We did this and we did that…” (about me and my bike) and telling her stories about me and my bike.
Oh Lord. I’m in deep.

I’m totally, unabashedly in love with my bike at the moment.

And it is not fattening (in fact it’s anti-fattening) and it’s not illegal (although I get dirty looks from cops when I forget to use my hand signals).

Here’s the secret of why riding my bike makes me so damn happy:

I cannot help but smile while riding.

I have a big, you-know-what-I’m-eating grin on my face when the wind is in my helmet-less hair and I’m cruising along.

And because of that big smile that creeps up on my face I get endless people smiling back, wanting to connect and share themselves with me through their own smiles.

Today I had 29 people smile at me. 3 people wave at me. 1 dog look at me with wind-in-the-hair envy and 1 older woman in a battered taupe sedan look at me like she was wondering what dosage of Prozac I’m on and whether I should dial that dosage down a notch.

But I don’t need any Prozac. I have my bike.

One of my favorite parts about riding my bike is also the quick, verbal connections I make with random people that I would never speak to, were I in a car.

In the last few weeks at various Marin County crosswalks I have had:

-a Mexican guy let me touch his rather large spiky up-do haircut and say in the cutest Mexican accent, “It’s a flaaaat top.”

-a crossing guard tell me the weather report for the next three days as well as what gym he goes to and why in the four minutes it took for the light to turn green. (Weather: hot on Friday, Saturday-cooler, Sunday-scorching in the shade and Gold’s Gym: it’s got great air-conditioning and it’s close to home. He gets there at 9am after his crosswalk shift.)

-a woman biker announce that she played hooky from work and that she has never made it through a green light at 4th and Heatherton without having to stop for red but someday…

-a Hells Angel-looking guy on a beat-up mountain bike with a bell that had “Fred” written on it in bright red nail polish ask me if I “bike here often.” (I do but I didn’t tell him that, I just smiled in response and pedaled away as fast as I could.)

My Sunday bike rides are the new Sunday drives. Remember those? When life was slower-paced and you could actually enjoy the scenery?

Being on a bike allows me to connect with others and myself and the world around me in a much different way than I do when I’m in a car or even on foot. And it also allows me to let big questions go for awhile. Questions like: am I going to India? Bali? Stay-cation?

That’s why I’m so happy today.