My legs begin to burn as they rhythmically pump me forward. Up and down, up and down. Sweat starts to stick to the back of my shirt, contouring my bag perfectly onto my back. I look down to admire the checkered white line indicating the separation of lanes flashing quickly by. Finally, a gust of wind behind me to erase away that 90 degree heat. Now I'm working with something.

I look up. The back of a car and its menacing red lights are now right in front of me. I squeeze tight on my brakes and slightly lurch forward, coming to an abrupt stop. Traffic. Shit.

Ah, the wonders of biking through downtown Denver. Of course, I could have just been using the designated bike lane for designated bikers, but where's the fun in that? Too much safety and assurance. No, I enjoy the thrill of cleverly weaving in and out of cars - occasionally receiving an annoyed honk - and leering at drivers as I pass them up while they sit at red lights and stop signs. Motorists hate me. With a passion. You probably hate me too, reading this. And I'd probably hate me too if I was driving next to a biker like me.

But I don't care for driving through the city. It's much too boring and regulated, and I can't just have my car randomly hop the curb if I feel like it (at least not without causing serious damage to my car or any innocent bystanders). Biking is pretty much the reason I enjoy downtown so much.

Now, I don't condone reckless biking. Let's clear that up. I've unfortunately heard of and know way too many people being hit by cars or being badly injured in some other fashion related to biking. But damn if it's not fun as hell. It's along the lines of something like a runner's high and just that immaculate feeling of liberation. Sometimes, when I'm feeling particularly free, I like to pedal with no hands (when I'm on a relatively empty road, of course), outstretch my arms and let the wind blow through my afro - Titanic style. Other times, I plug in music (again, I know, reckless) and really make the ride more interesting. It usually goes Kendrick Lamar if I want to break into a sweat or Fleet Foxes if I'm feeling peaceful.

I guess it's hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that makes biking so awesome. For some people it's going dozens and dozens of miles out on the open road with nothing to bother them but their own mind. But they have special, skintight outfits and that's not really for me. Others use it as a green and cost-efficient method of commute, which I do as well, but that's almost secondary in my book. Others, and it's weird to say this, bike almost as if it were a fashion statement, with their ridiculous (and entirely unnecessary) tiny-brimmed baseball-styled hats, rolled-up-pant-legs and overly-expensive commuter backpacks to go along with their brake-less bikes and minimalist frame designs.

I think I have to draw my love of biking from my days as a kid when I would essentially employ the same reckless behavior I do today, only with more scabs on my knees and even weaker leg muscles. And don't we all miss being a kid? I guess some don't, but either way I do feel as if I'm channeling those childish sensibilities every time I get on my bike, scabs and all.

I won't stop biking. It's way too fun, and I think I'm slowly starting to figure out, on my own, the psychology behind what makes it so. I'm also realizing now that I doubt I've convinced anyone who hasn't taken up biking to try it. If you live in Colorado, especially Denver or Boulder, you probably see more bikers than you do pigeons or Subaru Outbacks. Well, that's because we're on all to something. At least I am. And I won't stop until I get to the bottom of what that something is. Come to think of it, I'd probably want bike even more when I do.