Who's Bad?!

I am!

Or dumb. The jury is still out.

Today, I awakened just before the sun came up. Surprisingly, I was unable to go back to sleep. So, I got up, responded to a few emails and decided to get out on the bike before it got too hot.

Quite by accident, my Sweetie caught up with me about :20 into my ride (we don't usually ride together during the week). Ever so innocently, he says, "You should follow me up Hwy. 39".

I'm slightly oxygen deprived, already, so I say, "Duh, ok". Maybe I didn't say "Duh", but, in retrospect, it was implied. I grabbed his wheel as we rode along and exited the dam.

If I had wanted to work this hard before most people got up, I would have joined the Army! Sweat (not perspiration) is pouring down my face, into my eyes, and down my back! I have just confirmed that I do, indeed, have a "lady" moustache -- sweat is pooling on my upper lip!

I think my Sweetie is trying to kill me! Mind you, this is only the second time I've attemped this ride, so to say it's still quite a challenge for me is an understatement. He's all relaxed just a few yards ahead of me.

Just when I think I cannot pedal another stroke, we've reached our destination -- Morris Dam. After a few deep breaths and some juice, my sugar levels stabalize and I think I was, maybe, being a bit dramatic when I thought he was trying to kill me.

Blessedly, the ride to this point was all uphill, so the ride home is downhill. I love downhill -- winding curves, blurred scenery, and dry(ing) jersey.

Just as we pull into the driveway, my Sweetie says, "You should do this ride, again, tomorrow". I say, "Duh, ok".