The wheels on the bike go 'round and 'round.

My dad is an avid cyclist. He got into the sport a few years ago when his old hockey knees pretty much killed any chance of him ever enjoying a run. He rides a few times each week, either alone or with a group of people from work. And if Mother Nature reigns supreme, he'll ride inside on his stationary trainer or spin bike. It's total dedication, or at the very least, a hardcore case of Lance-ism. And last year, on a whim, he entered a drawing to win the bike above from his favorite bike shop.

Obviously he won, which my mom, sister and I thought was awesome. Now we could ride, too! And we all did on occasion, though never consistently because we're all a bit more into running. But I'm bound and determined not to let that bike collect dust this summer. I've kidnapped it from my parents' garage and over the next two months I will train for my first bike race—the L.A.T.E. ride in Chicago on July 10.

24 miles. At night. Through the streets of Chicago. And did I mention it's at night? The race starts closer to midnight, which should put a sweet twist on the whole shebang. And while some riders will actually treat it like it's a bona fide race, I'm looking at it more as a father/daughter bonding experience. The website says the "route is doable for cyclists of all levels." Of which I am at the lowest, so that's good. Because if it were a race, I'd eat major dust off my dad's back wheel.

I went out for six miles yesterday and did fairly well for a beginner. And while I was pedaling, I decided to name the bike Jamis because, well—it appears to be his name. Or at least his brand, so I'm going to roll (pardon the pun) with it. Now, if we could just find my sister a bike to use...