FLASH-POINT BLOGGER: SUSANNA LOEWY

Well, yesterday I managed to get myself to the Y to swim. (When did workouts get so hard to fit into my day? How have I become so lazy?)

The pool is of 25-yard adequate length, but it tastes bad and is way too hot. But...

Sigh.

I love it. I get in the water, and it's like I can do no wrong. I glide through silkily â€" metronomic rocking from side to side pulses my way from one wall to the next, a flip turn divides the measures of the laps, and the sculling creates a steady current of jet propelled water behind me.

Of course, I'm not as fast or strong as I've been in the past, but it didn't matter. I am meant to be in the water.

I think I've done a decent job of developing my 'land legs' over the past few years (I had better, with biking across the country, an IronMan, and several marathons under my belt) , but sheesh - I get in the water and I just feel... finally... home.

Today, I rode my bike for transportation.

Or rather, I rode A bike for transportation.

It was one of those bikes that you have to pedal backwards to brake, and it was way too big for me, and (on the way back, at least), I had one huge bag of groceries on my back while another was in my lap; I was panting from the thinner than usual air, and I generally felt weak.

I loved every second of it.

When I get on a bike, I just start grinning, no matter what, really. So much of last summer's cross country trip comes flooding back, and I feel an instant sense of complete and total freedom.

I'm still not the best biker on the block (especially right now, considering I'm in biker-steeped Boulder, CO), but regardless, biking is just such an awesome feeling.

I'm here for a music convention and not to bike, but I'm still going to find some time to do at least one serious bike ride. I've heard there are some mountains that are fun to climb...

It's noon on July 12. Arriving in Washington, DC, I feel a familiar sort of nervous energy that by now I almost 100% associate with Bike and Build. Excited and nervous to be out on the bike - wondering if I would be strong enough to conquer the high mileage and more than ready to feel my leg width increase with every pedal stroke. Also though, a potential dread about meeting so many new people - as many times as I've purposely put myself in similar situations, I still can't help but feel a knot in my stomach. What if they don't like me?

I'm at the church and meet the leaders and so many people whose names seem impossible to remember - AP, JJ, JD... what the hell is up with all the initials for names? Then, Kristy and Kristin and which one is which? Of course, a bunch of girls who are known mostly by their last names, but you know me - not all that team-sporty of a chick. Still, I try to go with the last name thing even though it feels completely and totally foreign and the words just seem to get stuck in the back of my throat, no where near the tip of the tongue where they need to be.

People seem nice and friendly and almost interested to meet me though, and so maybe everything will be a-ok.

Leader Alana and I find a ride to the bike shop to get my bike, where I indulge in new tires, since the ones currently on the bike had somewhere near 4,000 miles on them, and the last man I had check my bike gave it a 'Honey, you're riding on a wing and a prayer here, but have fun...'

Back to the church, where I attempt to put the bike together and the new tires on, cursing myself the entire time for not shelling out the $35 to have the bike put together at the store. Of course once it's done, I'm glad to still have the money in my wallet, but during the hour-long pathetic process, I felt like an imbecile and an idiot - I'm so damn uncoordinated, everything keeps falling, people are watching, and what if I don't put it together correctly and forget to tighten something and then die because I'm too stingy to ask for help?

The bike is put together, the chain untangled and everyone seems to be just sitting around the church. I'm completely exhausted from the Alaskan time zone, soul shattering audition #too-many-to-count, 5-something wake-up call, and cooped-up airplane ride, but a nap doesn't really seem to be an option; I'm not yet used to the reality of my thermarest or a noisy communal bedroom.

Leaders Scott and Alana, Carboni, and I decide to head out for a ride. I would love to ride around DC, stretch my legs, and just generally test out my bike; it's better than something goes wrong today than tomorrow - today, we'll be nearby and out 'just for fun'; tomorrow, I would have to call the rescue van...

Plus, getting to know a few people at a time seems easier than attempting to emerge myself in the whole group dynamic at the same time. Everyone has the mid-trip attitude - grumpy and lethargic; it's kind of funny, but I definitely hope people are a little more positive on riding days (days off can be hard mentally).

The weather is perfect for riding and DC is beautiful. I haven't been downtown since my Aunt Sandy and Uncle William's wedding in 1993 or so. I see all the monuments again for the first time, and we all take a bazillion pictures - all except for me. I hate my portable camera and decided not to use it on this trip. I'll rely on other people's group photos, and invest in a new riding camera once I've done the research and have the money. So, once the photos are up on Facebook, I'll update this post with a plethora of pictures.

We see a little bit of everything; we don't climb the steps to see the statues, but we ride the circle around the city, stopping every couple hundred feet for a new photo op; we definitely took some brochure-worthy shots. Riding by the White House, the guards comment on my clip-in sandals, then tell us we have to stay further back than normal. Apparently an Obama is home; is that him milling around the garden? It's too far away and I can't tell for sure. At the Lincoln Memorial, standing on the pillars with bikes held over our heads, crowds of Chinese tourists jump into our picture and take photos of themselves with us. We step down from the shakey pedestals and the tourists continue to take pictures, the kids wanting to put their arms around me and touch my bike. I feel a little bit like a superstar, but I'm laughing so hard my stomach hurts and I don't remember anything ever being so funny.

Heading back to the church after the 3-hour tour and 20 or so touring miles, and I notice my handle bars aren't quite facing straight ahead. That's weird; I don't remember noticing that earlier in the ride. Of course - I didn't tighten the screws. It's silly, careless, and stupid, and I should have triple checked my bike before setting out for a ride. Still, it's good I realized now instead of during a decent.

There aren't any showers at the church, so we grab the hose, and clean off with by sticking soap down our bike shorts... it's cold and fun and the trees act as a clothes rack to hold our jerseys. My hair seems irreparably tangled, but I don't care - it's Bike and Build and I love it.

Once again, lying around the church, trying to decide what to make for dinner. Eating handfuls of tortilla chips and salsa without any sort of control, a bowl full of Special K, peanut butter, jelly, and honey - it's not as good as it sounds. But, before you know it, I'm full and tired and I think it's time for bed, formal dinner or not. Lots of good jokes are told, and Kristin told Leader Scott she thought he 'could go all night'.

Everyone else is filtering back into the church; I help carry some new Trader Joe's donation groceries into the kitchen, brush my teeth and ignore my mess of hair, and set out my thermarest in the room that seems to have the most functional fan. I try to charge my powerless phone near me, but all the close outlets are taken; I therefore ignore my fast accumulating email and voicemail, and close my eyes. I'm exhausted and fall asleep almost immediately; I don't think I even notice when the lights were officially turned off or when someone trips over me in the middle of the night.

In the morning, it's time for the real Bike and Build trip to begin. Nerves or not, we're going to head out to Frederick, MD, home of the Frederick Keys, the minor league baseball team at whose stadium Boy had his 8th birthday party.