So I am out on a bike ride this fine evening and I come upon a hill. It isnt a real hill but it is enough to challenge my somewhat suspect fitness level. Said hill has a popular local gathering spot at the bottom. About halfway up the glorious aroma of the taverns fryers taunt me. If I had worn regular shorts and had cash in my pocket, it would have been over. My bike ride wouldve ended with a plate of wings and a pitcher. But I limped to the top, almost collapsing in a heap at the crest. Cuz you gotta have goals.
Posted on: Wed, 13 Aug 2014 23:29:02 +0000
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