You are one fickle bitch, Boston.

Things were looking up last Friday. The sun was shining, people were smiling, dogs were getting much needed exercise in local parks and recreational bikers were out and about during the wonderful 68 degree day.

Too bad it was Friday, and I was stuck in a room with no windows (thanks work).

Once I finally stepped out of my dark room and into the light, I was discouraged to see the sun setting. I stupidly comforted myself with the thought of riding over the weekend, since 68 degree weather has to linger for a while... right?

Not in New England, my friends. New England likes to tease its patrons with periodic glimpses of a better climatic life just so it can smack that ice cream cone dream right out of our hands. Bastard.

So, it not only dropped 25 degrees the next day but two days later in a cruel ironic fashion, it snowed on the first day of Spring.

Needless to say, my beginner excitement on biking does not involve freezing my little ass off, so I skipped riding over the weekend. I feel like a loser. Today I ran to the bus stop (three blocks) and choked repeatedly on the cold air. I'm not much for aerobic activities (as we have established previously), but I would like to be able to sprint three blocks and not sweat and cough like a 500lb Italian dude.

I NEED to bike. I need to get my endurance up to a respectable level. And most importantly, I have a new toy that I can't play with. Stop being an exercising cockblock, Boston. Even my dogs are sad.

"Hey Asshole, we'd like to go outside."