I really, really wanted to post about my bike ride today. I even thought about profound things for the blog as I was riding, but since we were in the MOUNTAINS, most of them came out profane. I'd love to tell you about all the hills we climbed today, and my maximum and minimum speeds. I'm not sure the GPS tells the minimum speed, but I can tell you that at one point I looked down and I was going 2.8 mph. But I didn't walk any of the hills. I'm much too stubborn for that.
I'd love to tell you about the screaming downhill we had coming off Unicoi Gap. My hands were killing me when I got to the bottom, just from braking. Or trying to. If a deer had jumped out in front of me, we would have just had a Bambi (and Bragger) disaster, because there was no way to stop.
I'd love to tell you about our rest stop at the Babyland General Hospital, where the original Cabbage Patch Kids are born. I wanted to post the video of a silly man pretending to be a doctor and "delivering" the baby. Give me a large personal break.
I'd love to tell you about why I was wearing my clunky winter-type cycling shoes instead of my wonderful cycling sandals that allow my toes to breathe and my toe ring to shine.
I'd love to tell the story about how 5 of us slept in a motel room with one king-size bed last night.
But it's all going to have to wait until another day. After riding 50 miles on my bicycle (with a grand total of 4 days of training ALL YEAR), I'm beat.