because there are mornings when the bike seems slow and sleepier than you are, then after a few minutes on the road, it wakes up and starts flying up hills to greet the sun.

because there are rainy afternoons where the crackle and rattle of an insufficiently oiled chain sound like the grumbling of a tired steed that just wants to go home.

because there are moments when you are slaloming through city traffic, weaving through cars and peds like some urban dancer and it's all so effortless and easy that you're almost convinced that the bike is picking the line for you.

because there are the days when you pick up your bike as you head out, and the handlebars will twist to face you as if the bike wants to ask, "so, where to today?"

your bike has a name because it has a personality.

... of course, me, I don't have a name for my bike, because I think that anthropomorphizing inanimate objects is a romantic but personally counterproductive habit ... still makes me happy to see others do it, though.