36 miles, no wall, leisurely pace (yet still faster than the weekend previous!) and I didn’t walk any of the downhills.

Oh hadn’t I mentioned that?

Yeah so me? Not so much with the whole biking down the hill thing: biking down hills scares the poo out of me, because it is speed and it is not easily and quickly controlled with braking. In fact if you brake hard you end up flying over your handlebars like some git who got her bike tire stuck in railroad tracks and then you end up in the ER paying a $250 deductible, $100 copay, and another 10% of the total bill (ok, so I’m just a little bitter about that).

The weekend I hit the wall I walked a lot of the downhills (which adds to a dejected mood) because what with rain and steepness I was scared. This last weekend we got some cool, crisp, and clear weather and I rode those back brakes like a grandma: but I rode them.

However, I am at a disadvantage: I ride with two guys. These guys have leg muscles that make mine look darned petite (and people, I’m 5’10” and not what one would call “thin” or “wispy”), and they get going, and my new nickname is “Waldo” because they get going and stop and turnaround and I’m not there because my pace isn’t quite as fast as theirs.

I’m going to invest in a red and white striped bike jersey, if I can find one.

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