Last winter, I had no less than five colds. I took at least 1-2 days off work every month from November to March due to sickness. My companions were constant coughing, sleepless nights, and guzzling seemingly ineffective cold medicine. It sucked big time.
So far this winter, I have had only one cold-- a weak one that I caught on a plane ride home for Christmas. I have taken only one sick day-- for a migraine, not a cold. And I've felt ten times better than I did last year.
What changed? Well, my commute.
As an urban dweller who doesn't own a car, the subway was the default method to get to work. It wasn't bad; it generally took me about 40-50 minutes to get downtown. But I hated having to shell out the money for a subway pass every single month. Other annoyances were having to wait for the T, as it was almost never on schedule. And when it did arrive, having to squeeze past the mass of bodies to claim space between an elbow and an armpit. Not very glorious.
The worst part was being unable to move when a fellow commuter coughed or sneezed in your general direction. I developed a technique of holding my breath for several seconds to try to avoid catching airborne illnesses, but it obviously wasn't working.
At some point two summers ago, I began biking recreationally around the city with my husband. Up until then I had been too afraid of the notorious Boston traffic to bike on the streets. But my husband was quite patient and we started with small rides, along the bicycle trails whenever possible.
Gradually I worked up to where I was learning how to navigate the streets alongside cars. I also switched out my clunky mountain bike for a commuter bike with road wheels. Cycling on the lighter bike was a dream. As I got more comfortable pedaling on the street, I decided to try biking to work.
At first I took the long way around in order to stick to the bicycle trail. Biking along the river in the morning was peaceful; a wonderful way to start the day. As time went on I moved over to taking one of the bigger roads directly into the downtown to save time. And it wasn't bad-- I shaved off several minutes.
Despite this, I still had to fight the feeling of laziness in the mornings. My habit was to take the subway, and my mind didn't quite want to let go of that. But around June or so I realized that I just had to give myself no choice, and make bicycling to work my default mode of transportation. After that decision, biking every day slowly became my habit. I loved the freedom, the autonomy, and saving the seventy to eighty dollars each month that used to go towards a subway pass.
In the middle of this, my beloved bike was stolen overnight-- I won't go into all the details here, but suffice it to say that leaving a bicycle out overnight, even locked properly, is risking theft. I was pissed. I filed a police report, but the bike was never recovered. Instead of giving up bicycling, though, the only option in my mind was replacing my bicycle. It had become my car; my way of getting around the city.
I found a terrific bike on Craigslist: a ten-year-old hardly used racing bike, made by Greg Lemond (now the only American to win the Tour de France). I had to get used to the drop handlebars and leaning over while pedaling, but it was worth it. The bike was light and the tires thin, and I went whizzing down the streets. This was a good time for me to upgrade to a faster bicycle; after months of biking in Boston I knew my route and I was reasonably used to biking in downtown traffic.
The last big change I made was getting rain/snow gear, and buying another used bike that I could take out in the rain and snow. It was a K2 Zed, and had front shocks, disc brakes, and monster tires. This thing was the perfect machine to get me through slush and snow.
I can now bike day or night, and in any temperature or weather condition Boston decides to throw at me. Biking is healthy, functional, and a great way to save money. And I'm totally hooked.
