When I am evangelizing bicycle commuting, I usually point at my beer belly and tell people that cycling isn’t that hard, because even I can do it, and I’m a fatass.
Today, one of my co-workers tried to ride in to work, 11 miles from the East Shore. He’s a fairly young guy, skinny, plays soccer, etc.
He had to call someone to pick him up after 7 miles. Legs turned to jello, or somesuch.
Tonight, Girtong2 and I did about 9 miles of the LVRT, before retiring to the pub to have beers and discuss the meaning of the universe.
While we were riding, Gritong2 had to ask me to slow down. Girtong2 runs 5ks races and shit.
Maybe I’m a liar when I point at my belly and say you don’t have to be “in shape” to ride a bike. I’m “in shape.” My shape is spherical, but it seems to work for me.
Today: 9 miles
May: 201.5 miles
2007: 490.5 miles
Beer calories: 1066.972