Yesterday was Bike to Work day in the Bay (in the US? world? I have no idea). Eee was able to get his bike out and hooked up to the tandem so Aee could ride behind him with her wild hair trailing and her little voice yelling, "Faster, Daddy! Faster!". Jee was on his own bike, fully capable of a full day's ride, looking all four ways at each intersection, so competent.
Mee? My bike is locked to the trampoline and I can't find the key.
So, since I'm not a sissy, I ran alongside the bikes, panting like a dog, trying to keep up. The entire time I'm wondering if it's worse to be a sissy or an out-of-breath, stinky dog?
We crossed paths with a guy from church, an exceptionally physically fit guy who wasn't even breaking a sweat even though it was 98 degrees already (actually, it only felt like 98). He smiled and was polite.
But wow, my legs were aching. Last night I went on a long run with Sum 41, Chuck album blasting on my iPod which makes me run far faster than my body would naturally allow. When I pulled into the homestretch, Vee came out of the house and bellowed, "Mom, let's go for a run!" He had just gotten home and needed to stretch his legs.
Of course, I eeked out a, "Sure!"
What an idiot. I am so sore.
So, I did Round 2, running the loop, well, half the loop since Vee noticed my face was an odd combination of purple and white. But we still did the homestretch sprint and it felt great.
Then the next morning I got a good run in... and tonight I'll surely go for one again since I'll already be so sweaty from this heat wave that I won't care if I get even slimier.
So why don't I look like a runner yet??
One of life's mysteries, I guess. A cruel one, though.