We were ten minutes into an early-evening ride around Bay Farm Island last night ... a scenic, tranquil ride alongside gently-lapping waters, with the San Francisco skyline directly across the bay ... when something suddenly smashed into the side of my face. It felt like a volleyball, maybe, or a lesser planet. For a moment I came perilously close to losing my balance, I was so startled by the sudden impact. But as it turns out, it was just a bug, imploding on my face.

It missed my open mouth by half an inch.

I wiped the guts off my cheek and thought That could have been *dinner,* Secra. And I vowed to try and be more vigilant about riding close-mouthed.

There is other stuff I'm starting to figure out, the further we move into the whole bike-riding-as-way-of-life process. For instance ... I'd probably better start putting sunscreen on my arms. [And -- if I ever work up the nerve to squeeze myself into a pair of shorts -- I'll have to start slathering it on my lily-white legs.] I've been so careful about protecting my face from those bad nasty California UV rays that I sorta forgot I had other body parts that might need protecting.

A few other things I'm learning, along the way:

Riding uphill sucks. The good news, however, is that an UPHILL is generally followed by a DOWNHILL. [And if it isn't ... you can always roll backwards for a little while.]

I totally *get* the idea of gears now. Remember -- just a couple of weeks back -- when David was first trying to sell me on the idea of riding, and I said that I would consider a bike as long as it didn't require any sort of shifting? [I believe that my exact words were "NO ten-speeds! No twenty-speeds! No 'SPEEDS,' period!"] Let's just say that I've had a change of heart in the past two weeks.

Riding through the sprinklers is actually a lot more fun than riding around them.

There are people -- both on and off the road -- who just plain hate bicyclists. Nothing you do is going to change that. [I should know. I used to be one of those people.] You can smile and wave pleasantly ... politely announce "Passing on your left" [and then murmur a secondary "thank you" as you carefully veer around them] ... smile in faux-admiration at their ugly dog/their ugly baby/their ugly jogging shorts ... follow ALL rules of traffic safety and common courtesy ... and it doesn't matter. They're still gonna hope you get hit by a WebVan truck.

Waterproof mascara definitely appears to be the way to go here. Unfortunately I have yet to find one that doesn't 1.) cost more than roundtrip airfare to TicTac and/or 2.) go on like spackle. Any suggestions?

One year from now -- when I am a more seasoned cyclist -- I am going to be extremely kind and generous and forgiving towards obvious *bicycle newbies.* I will never tailgate. I will never force them off a narrow bike path. I will never zoom around them at a bazillion miles an hour, with absolutely zero warning or acknowledgement. And I will never snicker when they're pushing the Schwinn uphill ... even if they're still pushing it, forty minutes later.

Here are the things I'm getting better at, the more I practice: starting, stopping, maintaining my balance, steering, shifting gears, keeping up with my cycling partner, negotiating small bumps in the road, climbing short hills, riding with one hand [while the other hand adjusts the bike helmet/shakes off the carpal tunnel syndrome/discreetly tucks the bra stap back inside the T-shirt], slowing down, speeding up, smiling cutely at fellow cyclists [Are we cool or whut?], riding for longer distances without tiring/complaining/praying for tire failure.

Here are the things I still suck at: hairpin turns, looking over my shoulder, negotiating large bumps in the road, climbing steep hills, forgetting about how my butt must look from *behind.*

Memorizing my bicycle lock combination was a snap. There are three two-digit numbers in the series. I remember it like this: my age when I had my first C-section ... my age when I flipped that coin and signed up for AOL instead of Prodigy ... and my age the summer I grew four bra sizes in three months.

I understand now what they mean by Drink before you're thirsty and eat before you're hungry. I am constantly reaching for David's water bottle. [At least ... I hope it's his water bottle.] And since our weekday rides generally must take place after work -- but before dinner -- I try to have some fruit or cereal or a SlimFast *Close Your Eyes & Pretend I'm A Butterfinger OK?* Snack Bar before we head out on the ol' bike trail.

Unless, of course, I want to snack on a couple of bugs along the way. Then all I have to to do is ride with my mouth open.