Was going to do a longish ride from home and explore this city I've lived in and not really appreciated for the last 20 years (Everett, WA, a less attractive little sister of dazzling Seattle), but about 10 miles in, DH called from Portland, frantically asking me to check our bank accounts because he had left his debit card in a gas pump somewhere in Washington. I had made good time up till then, and discovered, at that point, that was because it had been mostly down hill. I have noticed a certain tendency to panic on hills which makes it much more difficult to breath, and have tried to stay as relaxed as I can when climbing. Today, I was in full on panic mode and those little bronchial tubes obligingly clamped shut to make the ten mile ride uphill to the house a very unpleasant (and excruciatingly slow) experience. I didn't see any unusual withdrawls from the account, when I got home, but noticed that Hubby's transaction at the gas station hadn't even been posted, so there could conceivably be other charges pending as well.Pooh! And now it's raining to boot!



Pooh! And now it's raining to boot!
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Of course, the fact that it was less than 90 degrees and my brain wasn't broiling in my helmet probably contributed to that. Regardless, I did the
, and I also made it up another hill that almost made me throw up the first time I tried to ride it last year.
(currently have Sora's).
