I’m pretty down on Lance Armstrong ever since he ditched Kristen and the boys to hang out with a half rated, over the hill pop star. But, he still knows how to make sure that the pedals keep going around, and how to keep the meat side up and the rubber side down in the mountains. Although I may have to pull for someone else in the Tour, what with me being somewhat bound to becoming a yankee now. Plus, the guy’s pretty hard-core, what with finishing last year’s tour with a broken collarbone.
Anyhoo, I broke out the old Cannondale and pounded out a couple of miles this morning. 10 to be exact. The ride was great, wrapped up in about 34 minutes, which is quicker than the 15 MPH I’ve been averaging for the last year or so, but climbing completely blew. I’ve got no lungs for it. Within about 30 seconds of starting up a hill, I’m in distress. But there’s not a whole lot of choice here; hills are a fact of life. Plus, what does not kill me makes me stronger.
Love the bike.
