I have recently joined a class of people that I previously hated: bikers.

In my mind, bicyclists were worse than cars drivers. Cyclists were the bully of the sidewalk; they go too fast, cut people off and act like they are better than everyone. Our “friends” on two wheels ignored your existence and demanded you get out of the way.

There was one time when I was walking by Swen Parson when out of nowhere a biker zoomed right past me, barely missing me by a centimeter. It made me so angry that I swore I would never join the barbarians on campus.

But I’ve joined the tribe.

Recently, I was late to class. I misread the clock—my eyes were closed—and I found myself on a 15 minute walk, but I only had five minutes to get to my seat. I was frantically trying to find out the next bus time when it hit me: I have my own wheels.

After decoding the lock on my bike, I flew down Lucinda to get to my psychology class. I made it to class with seconds to spare, and I noticed a few other things:

It was maybe 80 degrees out, but I hadn’t broken a sweat. I felt awake and exhilarated; the adrenaline of dodging people and timing lights perfectly made my morning into an adventure.

I didn’t have to deal with the awkwardness of walking behind people I know or dismissing old men handing out Bibles on corners.

It struck me—if being a biker was evil, then I wanted to be bad.

Feeling the air woosh past, jumping a curb and dodging obstacles, trying to go faster and faster, all added to my new addiction.

I can take the “long-cut” and enjoy the scenic route across campus and still have time to walk into class sweat- and frantic-free. I can go through grass without feeling bad. The best part is getting a bit of cardio activity every time I go to and from class.

The last stretch, being uphill, is the final boss to my adventure everyday. My day has basically become more mine.

I realized that bicyclists weren’t being rude when they were darting in between people on the side walk; they were trying to be efficient.

Every minute they save is another minute to do something they love.

My legs may be a bit sore, but my bum is going to look fantastic by the time the year is through.

I understand the average pedestrian’s frustration with bikers. But we’re just going about our day more efficiently, saving our time, our energy and our feet.

Two feet are overrated. It’s about time to get moving, and I’m moving via bicycle.