Going Up.

I suck at climbing.

Most fat people do, as our fat rolls are an obvious aerodynamic disadvantage on steep hills. Perhaps if we invested in carbon rims so wide they only require two inch spokes we could overcome this single flaw in our cyclist physiques... maybe then we would be able to hang with the people that seriously need to eat a sandwich or ten.

The way to get better at climbing is to climb, so I've spent the last few days climbing. Pick a pace you can maintain, don't tense up your whole body trying to rip the bars off the bike, breathe deeply and slowly, pedal, pedal, pedal, pedal...

Little by little I noticed a change as I settled into the suck. Joggers pushing strollers were still passing me going up Potter Valley, but it took them longer to drop me completely, and I noticed their cell phone conversations weren't nearly as expressive. I was putting the hurt on them.

Yesterday was a warm, sunny day, and even though I was climbing, I couldn't help but think positive thoughts. When I got to the top, I immediately turned around and rode down instead of draping myself over the bars and quietly weeping. When I got to the bottom, I immediately started climbing again, instead of taking an uncharacteristic intense interest in random birds floating around Potter Marsh.

I was climbing badly, but I was climbing.

It's a start.

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