What's black and blue and red all over?

Me!

I prayed for rain, thunderstorms, a tsunami and the like, but the rotten weather wouldn't comply. Instead of a torrental downpour on Saturday, we were graced with wonderously clear blue skies and cool temperatures.

The ride to the Amanas was on.

Swim was swim. A new session for sure; only two of us left in the "not afraid to put our face in the water" level. But it's still the same drill routine and I'm in need of some change.

My other half has given in and joined the Y. A good thing too, since I've brainwashed him enough sign up for the Pigman as well.

Saturday morning he prepped our bikes and off we went to the Y for a swim prior to our departure for the Amanas.

After swim I did everything I could think of to delay the inevitable. We biked a few blocks to the Czech Village and fueled up on coffee, donuts and flaky apple streudel before making our way past the city limits.

The news had said to expect gusty winds and they were right. Though cross winds threatened on occasion to push us farther into lanes of traffic, there were times that the winds were at our backs, making us fly.

We lunched, wandered through the village and tried some cheeses before parking ourselves on a sunny bench. Exhausted still, I caught a short catnap, and then downed a quick iced mocha, hoping for energy to get me through the return trip.

We hopped on our bikes once again and turned onto the main thoroughfare home.

And up a 3 mile hill.

Into 20 mile an hour head winds.

I made it half a mile (I'm probably being very generous) before I pulled completely onto the shoulder to sob.

My loving husband walked me through a plan of attack, setting small goals to get us to our destination, and teaching me how to ride half a tire's length of his back wheel.

It was nearly dark, the street lights flickering on, as we entered the park next to our house nearly 4 hours later.

My legs were bruised from whacking myself with my pedals.

My arms were burnt into a nice farmers tan.

But I made it.