I sit at my desk huddled (eating peanut butter and jelly that for some reason tastes really good today) gulping hot coffee in an effort to keep warm. Outside freezing wind whips loose snow around; stinging like a rolled up towel snapped into small of your back. The ground, where it isn't covered in ice, is wet, salty and hostile. I try to tell myself that this winter stuff doesn't bother me as much as it used to. Then I read this (knowing that my bike sits in the basement at home, not ridden in months, tires slightly spongy, cats chewing the grip ends) and think: man, I could really go for a warm day, a dry, empty parking lot and at least two hours to kill.