(Alternate title: When you fall of a horse... kill it. Kill it and eat it. Then, eat some more. Then, kick it - beat it with a tire iron - revel in its innards - ... I'm sorry, where was I?)
Did I mention that I've been sick? Well, I have. I've been sick now for over a week... it sucks.
But I've been dying to get back on my bike, especially after my 50 mile ride. I've wanted to get off the river trail, move into some hills, take on some different scenery... but then, I got sick. Dammit.
Still, last night I gathered myself up and decided it was time to start cycling again. I even lubed up the chain - which isn't the metaphor Vicky thought I was going for when I told her, I actually lubed up the chain! I felt like a real bike mechanic dude and, anyway, I'd done so much riding the chain was squeaking quite a bit.
This morning, I went out at about 5:45 and rode. I rode and rode and returned, sweating, heaving, my nose running, at 6:20, feeling like I'd done myself proud.
... then, I saw the stats from my odometer: 5.5 miles, 11.9 mph average... crap.
Well, time to shoot for 10, I guess.
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