No matter how shitty a day it has been, no matter what anyone said, or didn’t say, and even if you didn’t get that promotion, or that salary raise, or the recognition you thought you deserved, no matter how many people resent you for things you did unintentionally, no matter how lonely and friendless you are even after a year in a big city, no matter whether you slept well or not, or cried secretly in the toilet, or publicly at your desk, or how far home and everything warm and familiar is, once you get on your bike all your worries feel light years away. Then all you care about is seeking out the path to the river, the gentle swishing and hissing of the tires, the waves and the light playing on the water, identifying your home from the opposite bank, building up acceleration at times, and cruising without pedaling at others. It doesn’t even matter that it’s raining. It can even make it nicer, with the traffic lights reflected in the puddles, the image distorting when your bike makes a neat little splash in them.