My first ride was on my husband's old mountain bike. After getting me decked out in my first pair of shorts and jersey (bought without my knowledge), my husband lead me out of our development, down a hill and to the end of that street. When we turned around, I could not get back up the hill, even in the granny gear, without him putting his hand on my back and pushing me up.
And I thought I was in shape from aerobics and 20 years at the gym.
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Thread: Reflections
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03-16-2008, 01:19 PM #1
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Last edited by Crankin; 03-17-2008 at 01:58 AM.
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03-16-2008, 06:33 PM #2
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Ah yea, I remember when I rode 10 miles around my neighborhood and how proud I was... and hungry. So hungry. HA!
That was 4 years ago.
Now I'm training for an Ironman and 30 miles is a short ride for me. 10 miles isn't even worth taking the bike out of the house for.
I got to see some newbies the other day... in a Tri 101 group going for a group ride with us. They were so cute and fresh! It was great! All there, looking a little bit scared, ready to tackle the challenge. I think we all understand how that feels.
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside thoroughly used-up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming: WOW WHAT A RIDE!!!!"
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