That which doesn't kill you can definitely make you miserable

"I've had worse days on the bike."

That's what I told myself after the first time I barfed by the side of the road on my way to work this morning. After the second time, I wasn't quite so sure.

Yep, it was a rough start down the road to fitness. I mapped out a 10-mile route with a start point that I could easily drive to and park the car. I knew there were a few killer long hills about 3/4 of the way through, but I remembered them being more looooong than steep.

A few miles in, I got to turn off of the busy highway and head toward a much more low-traffic road. It has burbling streams, shade trees, lovely curves, and now a big ol' ROAD CLOSED sign right after I turned onto it. Crap. I cruised down a little ways to see if I could sneak through, but they were doing active repair work from the big floods we had a few weeks ago. Time for plan B.

Plan B immediately included a short steep hill that I'd just ridden down. It sure was fun going down it. Up, not so much. Barf session #1. I know, I know... don't push so hard, right? Well, I was in the lowest of low gears on my bike. Like walking speed low. The last time I used this gear was on a mountain pass on a 100-mile ride in the Sierra Nevada. I thought I'd never see it again, but we sure were friends today. Since I refused to get off and walk, I was pretty much stuck with gutting it out to the top. All 100 feet or so.

I'll skip the details on the next few miles, except that I turned off the highway and was immediately faced with yet another steep (and longer) hill. For local folks, it's the road that goes by Z Tejas in the Arboretum. Once again it was: gut it out to the top, out with the guts at the top. At that point, I would have laughed at myself if I had the breath to do it.

After that debacle, the last few miles into work were totally mellow. Nice and flat, not much wind, and low traffic. That meant I got to cruise into the parking lot at work looking like a competent bike commuter. I'm okay living that lie for a bit.

Thank goodness the ride home is almost all downhill.

The trusty steed: