So, I guess the last time I remember riding was in September. The end of September, but nonetheless...
The reason I can say that with clear conscience is because I just went for a ride. It was only 7 miles and it took me 28 minutes. 14.4 miles per hour. And I almost died three times from exhaustion.
But I suppose there is some consolation in not completely losing my Honey Nut Toasty Os.
This was never meant to be a journal of my bicycling, so I'll be starting a new blog for the technical details of my ride, but this is more than riding. There is spirit here. Religion. Nothing brings a man closer to God than the firm belief that he's not going to make it all the way to the bike shop before collapsing. I didn't even make the round trip back to the house.
Phone conversation between Amanda and me:
Me: *huff blaggle spitskin"
Amanda: I'll pick you up at the bike shop.
The journey of a thousand miles begins with one pedal stroke.
By the way, ME friend, I'm 4 or 5 miles up on you.