FIRST time I rode in the double digits. My GPS said 11.22, dear hubby's GPS said 12.39. Now we rode together the whole time, so obviously his is right and mine was wrong. Somewhere I lost a mile. For sure, I am going with HIS mileage and not mine. I mean after all, the best policy is always honesty.
FIRST time I rode more than one hour. Wow, even I am impressed! My fat derriere sat on the tiny (anatomically correct) saddle for 1 hour, 9 minutes, and 31 seconds. BELIEVE me! EVERY single one of those seconds counts!!!
FIRST time I got a cramp. For real. It was in my hip when I put my foot down for a stop sign. I yelped and pulled it back up in the riding position. It finally went away but that sucker HURT. I am slowly killing myself. I started to have a moment of panic. What if I can't ride home? I will have to send Scot home to get the truck to come get me and I will be sitting here alongside the road (with my bike) and people will stare and the child in their car will ask "Why is that fat lady sitting instead of riding?" and they will think I am being lazy. When in reality, I would be hurt and in GREAT pain. But, if I laid there writhing in pain, then people would stop and try to help me. Boy, that would be embarrassing - all for a cramp. All that went through my mind, and then I realized the cramp was gone. Whew, crisis avoided.
FIRST time I ran out of water. It is dog hot here in Houston. One water holder may not be enough. I may need to add another one. Boy, wouldn't that make my bike look professional. Of course, I still don't look professional (too fat). Speaking of professional (maybe that is the wrong word, I mean they don't get paid, but they are way more than the recreational ride around the block type, and way more serious than me.) one passed us today. How do I know he was professional? He was riding at least twice as fast as us AND had enough breath to say "Good Morning" (I used capitals, because it was quite cheery.) Now, I was so breathless (it was around mile 10) that I couldn't even mutter under my breath, because I had no breath. But, I thought ugly things...show off.
FIRST time I went straight from the bike to the pool. In my clothes. There was NO WAY that I could peel a swim suit over my sweaty body, so I just went in with my biker shorts and shirt. I figure that I saved my washing machine the trouble. That is a good thing, right?