Found this on Bicycle Magazine's website
It's from an essay called "The Last Leg' and it's about that commute home at the end of the day.
Riding home... You can find tranquility in the whirl of your wheels and let a certain peace wash away the day’s travails. Or you can purge the day from your system–pedal hard, throw in a few sprints, and swoop low through the turns. Why not? Is your boss watching or something?It hardly begins to describe the feelings.
Me, I pick up the pace eventually. [I]n the last quarter mile—going fast now, on a slight descent—I suck my handlebar up toward my face, absorbing the shock. I flow on. ... I’m on an upright commuter bike, but for the moment I’ve wholly escaped: I’m all sinew and motion; I’m leading the peloton. We’re coming into Roubaix, onto the cobbles….
When I reach my doorway, I stand there a moment, feeling the hard beat of my heart. Then I shoulder my bike and step inside, ready for whatever might happen next.