Yesterday my husband decided he wanted to go for a bike ride. I haven’t been in a while; a really long while, actually. I decided to go along. The following are my thoughts during yesterday’s outing.

> This can’t be my helmet. This strap is so tight I have created 3 additional chins. ( It was not my helmet, it was Nathan’s. You know it’s been a while if you can’t even recognize your own helmet.)

> Ooh, mountain biking is so much more fun than running, and yet still a good workout.

(One minute later)

>Ho boy, I am out of shape.

> Was that a bug? Did a bug just go up my nose? It did. A bug just totally went up my nose.

> Clearly my innate klutziness not only extends to mountain biking, it is exacerbated by the random holes, rocks and tree roots.

> Ouch!

> Oh good. Downhill. Too fast. Too fast. Toooo FAAST!

>Please, God, don’t let me crash in front of these real mountain bikers. They’re already annoyed that I’m here.

> Wait- what are they looking at? What are they- Aww dammit, I knew should have worn a sports bra.

>Oh look! My husband can still do wheelies, intentional or not!

> Ack! another bug up my nose. Don’t you guys have any sense of self-preservation?

> Don’t hit that rock. You’ve got plenty of room on either side. Don’t hit the rock.

>You hit the rock.

>Is it forward or back on the gears to make it easier to go up the hill? Oh crap. Wrong way. Now my hands are too sweaty to shift back.

>I think I just heard a tree knock. Another one- yes, that definitely was a tree knock. I knew these woods looked squatchy.

>I’m pretty sure we are on the wrong trail. This has to be a trail for more advanced cyclists.

> Actually I don’t think this is a trail at all. More like a gauntlet.

>What was that I was thinking earlier? Biking is easier than running?

> My hoo ha can’t take another bump. Can’t you trees keep your roots to yourself?

>Good thing I’m done having children. Pretty sure that last bump made me sterile.

>Ferns aren’t as soft as they look

>Oof! I’m almost positive that bump just made me pee my pants.

>Bug in my eye! Bug in my eye!

>Oh goody. Only 1.6 miles to the parking lot.

>Hmm. Even tree huggers litter their clif bar wrappers. I thought you people loved the environment!

>Almost there. Try not to crash into the parking lot.

>Phew! Made it! I wonder how long it takes for a bruised undercarriage to heal.

 Sweaty, dirty, bugs in my orafices. But I survived.