I'm tempted to tell you that the image you see here has been made ghastly by the peculiar fake flash on my camera phone, or perhaps by its feeble resolution and tiny lens. But in fact those features of the phone have combined to make me look less ghastly than I do in the mirror. You see, I just got on my bicycle for the first time in about five years and rode to work.
It's a little over three miles, with one largish hill in the middle. I made it about 2/3 of the way up before I had to stop and walk the rest of the way. Fortunately, upon reaching the top, I was able to coast virtually the entire remainder of the trip.
The hill is a good bit steeper on the west side than it is on the east, so I'm not going to tackle it going home. I'll take a longer, but almost entirely flat bike trail around the hill and into Woodinville. When I reach the point where I can ride all the way up the hill on the way to work for a week, I'll think about trying to climb it going home.
The fact that it was so difficult to ride 3.2 miles just illustrates how important it is that I do ride, so I don't get so out of shape that I lose all physical form and become one of those incredibly advanced, yet somehow consistently idiotic, energy beings you see on Star Trek.
Man Out of Time: I think I'm going to puke
http://www.manoutoftime.org/article.php?story=20040629083514257