Friday after work, I showed up at his house stressed out, in a lousy mood and feeling horrible about myself and most other people.

It had been the end of what seemed like a never-ending work week. I didn't have the chance to complain or wallow because we had dinner plans and, as they often do, these plans included riding our bicycle to our intended restaurant.

I wasn't in the mood to ride a bicycle to dinner, couldn't he see that? I didn't want to be healthy. I didn't want to work on self improvement. I wanted to waste gas driving to a restaurant, then drink red wine and eat curry until my horizon started looking a little rosier.

We set out while it was still light. We pedaled up what to me was a pretty significant hill, onto the bridge and across the river. He took the lead with an early breakaway and I pedaled furiously just to keep him in my sights. We hit the level stretch the main thoroughfare of the town across the river.

As we rode, I noticed shop owners closing down storefronts for the day and lots of people getting ready for the weekend. I saw people walking their dogs. While we rode, I remember thinking that summer had definitely turned the corner into fall.

At the state store, he let me pick out the wine (I'm a label buyer). Then we rode our bicycles to the restaurant where we were led outside on a patio decorated with white Christmas tree lights.

It couldn't have been more than a few miles total, 45 minutes tops, but somewhere between crossing the river and sitting down to dinner, I forgot about my bad mood. I had so many things I wanted to/needed to complain about. By the time the waiter came to take our order, I couldn't remember them anymore.