Last Saturday (
Our original goal didn’t pan out as none of my friends could be convinced that they were in any kind of shape to make this trip fun. I would give them a harder time but for what follows.
Ken did get Chris on board, and we shortened it to a one day trip where we would ride out from and come back to
We rode on and found Chris and Ken had waited for me. I will admit I wasn’t happy to see them. I knew that I couldn’t turn back as long as they were stopping for me. And they stopped every time.
I will say here that neither of them seemed real upset about the new pace we kept for the rest of the day. I should say, though, that neither of them gave me a hard time about throwing up, either, so I should be grateful.
We made it out to the highest point on the Katy Trail, which gave us the psychological lift of thinking it was downhill all the way back. Moral of the story: McDonalds and physical activity do not mix (also, as Chris pointed out, “Maybe we didn’t properly prepare for the trip by riding 0 miles Monday, 0 Tuesday, 0 Wednesday, 0 Thursday, 0 Friday, and 45 miles Saturday.”)
It is now Sunday afternoon. Cannon is down for a nap, I am sitting at the computer, and where is Jill? She is outside standing over a ditch with a leftover sausage, trying to trap a neighbor’s kitten that wandered onto our property. If she tells you that she did it because she wants Cannon to see it; remember, Cannon is down for a nap.