Chase and I are trying to get some exercise every day this summer. Just to keep our girlish figures, don'tcha know. On Wednesday, we decided to take a bike ride. Harmless enough, right? Harrumph.
So, we set out of the neighborhood and headed down the road.
In case you haven't visited our fair city, Vegas is in a valley.
Surrounded by mountains.
The Strip (which is NOT where I live, thankyouverymuch) is pretty much the low point, geographically-speaking.
So, we're basically headed downhill.
NOW. Maybe I haven't actually informed you that I, sir, am no athlete. I can pedal a bike, and usually keep from falling off, but athletic? Nope. Not me.
I am very much enjoying our little downhill ride. Wind in the hair, bugs in the teeth, and all of that. It's 80-ish, with a lovely little breeze.
I do keep glancing over my shoulder at the way back, but think to myself..."Self? It ain't that much of a hill, and just think of how good your butt will look after you get home."
So, we keep going.
Eventually, we decide that unless we are going to gamble our lunch hour away at the Bellagio, we should probably turn around and. ride. back.
K, so it's not that much of an incline. But, it's a continuous incline. For miles. And now, the lovely breeze has gone away. And the bank clock says it's 95 degrees.
Our lovely bike ride has become quite the ordeal.
But we press on for awhile. Huffing and puffing but making it. For maybe an hour. At which time little miss Lance Armstrong (that would be me) starts to feel kinda hot and dizzy. Images of me passing out, falling off of my bike into the street and having cars run over my head in front of my 11-yr-old son start to plague me.
So, it's a long, sad story, but I finally admitted defeat, called my friend Debi to come pick us up and we spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying Debi's backyard pool.
Divine Hubby had a brilliant idea for our NEXT bike ride. Head UPHILL first, then when you've had enough, you can enjoy the lovely downhill ride home.
That's why I married him! :)