I went on a little bike ride this weekend. A little FORTY SEVEN MILE bike ride.
One should not go on a 47-mile bike ride when one has not been on a bike in three weeks unless one would like to become painfully aware of one's bottom. Needless to say, my butt and the bike seat are taking some time apart this week.
The ride was scheduled to be 60 miles. I figured 60 would be a stretch what with my excessive taper and all, but when at mile 47 we realized we had taken a 7-mile wrong turn making our ride a 72-miler....I had no reservations about calling the SAG wagon. I was done. I was already a good 6 or 7 miles past bonk at that point and I knew I didn't have another 25 miles in me.
For as frustrating as it is to become acutely aware of your loss of fitness, it was still an exceptionally beautiful day on the bike. One of those really perfect spring days. Warming gradually from a mild chill at the start to a sunny 60 degrees.
Top it off with a few Colorado beers, good food, and great friends, and it all added up to a perfect spring Saturday.