To bike or not to bike?

This has been the question on my brain for the past few days. Bikes are a common mode of transportation here in Cambridge, and I have noticed that more than a few of my colleagues ride their bikes to work. It looks sort of fun and, let’s face it, I am still new enough at the DCP to ponder strange activities of which I don’t normally engage in an effort to fit it. So, after much thought and reflection, I have decided not to bike. Here are my reasons:

1. Cambridge is really beautiful and because of the extraordinary number of incredible gardens, it smells really nice too. I mean it really smells nice. Often I walk into these little pockets of gorgeous smelling goodness and then I am happy. I think I would miss some of the beauty and the nice smells if I were zipping along on a bike.
2. I don’t live that far from work. When I move into my new place, I’ll be even closer to work.
3. It is not uncommon to see men in tuxedos riding bikes. Seriously. I saw five on my way home today. As it turns out, Liz was right when she said Cambridge is a place where you will find men in tuxedos all the time. I’ve seen a few women whiz by me in fancy clothes on bikes as well. I just don’t think I’m the sort of person that can hop on a bike in my pretty skirt. In addition, I don’t want to haul a change of clothes to work (especially since no one else seems to change into different clothes upon arrival at work).
4. I’m still not used to people driving on the other side of the road. About twice a day (and sometimes more) I almost walk into traffic because I look the wrong way before crossing the street. If I were on a bike, I would most certainly die. In the gruesome scenario I was creating in my head that ends in bicycle tragedy, I had visions of my poor new boss having to call my mother to say that I absent-mindedly rode my bike into on coming traffic. Of course, my sensible mother would tell her she must be mistaken because her daughter isn’t the sort of girl that rides bikes. Charissa on a bike in Cambridge is bad every way you cut it.
5. Last but not least, there is the little voice in my head that reminds me I haven’t actually ridden a bike in, say, twenty years. I know that there is the saying “its like riding a bike, you never forget” but I am not terribly confident that I would remember. And I know that I don’t want to arrive at work one morning with road rash from head to toe from some bike mishap (in this scenario I see the tragedy as including one of the cows that grazes over at Kings) and have to explain myself. Couple that with reason four, and well, it is clear that I will stick with having feet firmly planted on sidewalks.

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