Rode with my dad this morning (hour and thirty-five minutes...remember the days when a ride twice as long as that left me wanting more?...okay, slight exaggeration, but, whatever).
With about ten minutes left of pedaling to reach the car, I was like, "Are we there yet are we there yet are we there yet?"
I usually reserve my ride-whining for only those really horrendous circumstances on the trail (like breaking a helmet or the onset of a migraine or being seven months pregnant), but today I came unglued in a hurry and wasn't shy about voicing my discomfort.
My dad put in perspective for me (as a good dad is wont to do) by reminding me that I've got nothing to worry about, no races on the horizon to be in shape for, just have fun...be glad I'm riding at all in the condition I'm in.
(as far as my "condition" goes, I'm truly feeling so much better...phew)
The difference now, of course, is that it takes damn near two days to recover from ninety minutes of casual riding.
be glad I'm riding at all...
This evening, we had my friend and her fourteen month-old daughter over for dinner.
It was so great to catch up and watch our babies play, but their combined energy level??!
I need harness a little bit of that because after a day like today even my hair is tired.