Due to a torn tire and flat way back in early November, I busted out ye olde folding bike and rode it to and from work for the past two months. Even though the full-sized unfoldable bike’s tire was replaced within a week, my tangerine dream was a refreshing, upright way to commute in the rolling equivalent of a waddle. I simply toodled along to the office, not going too fast, not stressing, not concerning myself with looking anything other than dorky and taking the time it takes for the little wheels to cover the mile or so.

Having people over to the apartment during the holidays meant pretending to have some semblance of a kept house. So the toodle bike went back down to storage where it remains today. For the past two days I’ve been on my big boy bike. It feels more powerful, efficient and, if you can imagine, concise. The gearing is a bit tougher, but it would leave the toodle bike in the dust during a race.

While I was on my folding bike, I enjoyed the slow transition between my home life and office. Back in the saddle of a speedier steed, I can appreciate the more abrupt transition and thrill of getting out and away from the work day in a few swift pedal strokes. Both bikes make me smile, but for different reasons. I’m fortunate enough to have choices for what I ride to work. Neither one is superior. I’ll miss you, little Toodles, but I’m glad you’ll be there when I need to slow down.

Now if only I’d learn how to ride that unicycle….

I originally started this post in mid-December. Fitting or ironic that a post on sustaining and finishing things has lingered in draft form all these many weeks.

So I ran a marathon a few weeks ago. Yeah, I finished and it’s great to be back at it after a decade of not racing, even with 15 miles in a downpour with headwinds. But I haven’t run since. Sure, I had plans of easy recovery runs a few days after the race, alas, I chose lounging in bed with the dogs and my iPhone each at 6:30 a.m.

I noticed the same thing during my training. Leading up to our trip to Iceland in October, I was running four times a week. I barely missed any workouts. I even ran before we caught a cab to the airport at 8:00 a.m. and on the first morning that we work up in Reykjavik. Then, because it was too cold or I told myself it was supposed to be vacation, I took a few days off. Which eventually became three weeks off. The fact that they were the three most important weeks of high-volume and the longest long runs would eventually show itself during the race.

And it’s not just limited to physical activity. I can get on a roll with knitting, plowing through inches of a project for weeks at a time. I finished a lopapeysa for Chris a few nights ago (after a month-long sprint), but the armpits still need to be grafted shut and some ends that need to be woven in. I haven’t touched it since I bound off the last stitch. Instead, it joins a mega-fringed lopapeysa, a outerwear coat and a cowl-neck pullover, all of which need buttons, pockets and flaps attached, or a single seam sewn. Basically, by the end of this weekend, I could have four new garments (technically three, but I plan on borrowing Chris’). In the sock department… well, let’s not even go there.

According to Sir Isaac Newton’s first law of motion, if an object experiences no net force, then its velocity is constant. More often described as intertia, this is the concept that an object in motion tends to stay in motion or an object at rest remains so unless an outside force acts on it. My question is, what is the force that’s changing me?

It could be the motivation that was sufficient to start a project or compels me to run is not sufficient or even related to what’s necessary to sustain it. The “getting over the hump” carries me pretty far down the path, but that desire is sated before the end goal is achieved.

Self-pity aside, much of this post’s whining is irrelevant now, as evidenced by the picture above of the aforementioned fringed monster of ends to be woven in. C’s sweater is also complete, however the other two remain. I did finish a pair of mitten-capped fingerless gloves started during my first year of knitting before the end of 2012. So I’m feeling slightly more bad-ass in the completion department.

And, for the time being, I’m a week back on the running wagon.

Happy 2013. This was lunch: roasted vegetables and orzo. I’ve been wanting to make it since I first saw it. At last, I did. Perhaps this should be my unofficial theme for the new year: new recipes?

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

The day was filled with snippets of what I hope the year will contain: a 5.13-mile scamper, a doggie outing to stinky park, ironing, cooking, chores snd bills cheerily taken care of, dinner with friends and swatching for a new design. Pretty darn perfect.

I am going to try to hold my good mood and sense of accomplishment that the past week off of work has given me. No time for negative self-talk. I’m ready to do more than complain and whine. This is a new recipe for me.