windsong

I discovered when I stepped on the scale yesterday that the two pounds of cheese curds I had consumed in Wisconsin had somehow magically transferred themselves to my hips. What can I say, you can take the girl out of Wisconsin, but you can't take the cheese-lust out of the girl. So I decided I'd better go out and get some exercise. I rode my bike down the Lake Shore Bike Trail, a pretty little route between Lake Shore Drive and, um, the lake, and made it about halfway to downtown. The trick to bike riding, for me at least, is to figure out what your halfway point is: where do you turn around if you don't want to arrive back home completely wiped and unable to get upstairs? I thought I was doing better than expected, but I turned around at the marina anyway. It was a good job I did, since the kindly breeze that was cooling me off as I sped happily downtown had turned into a raging gale of torrential wind which prevented me from making any sort of headway. Also, I'm convinced the grade is slightly uphill all the way. Just very slightly. I felt kind of foolish as I was consistently passed by bikers who were traveling with apparent ease, also, old people, on their way to work or wherever. But I enjoyed being by the lake and getting outside for a change. Now, all I have to do is let my sitzbones heal, and I might even be able to do it again.