No.
I was brilliant on the bike.
When Tiffany and I did our first long training ride, I couldn't believe how fine I felt. I felt so fine that when it was Tiffany's turn to lead, I kept creeping up into her space, just edging into her peripheral vision, trying to push her. Finally, I came right up next to her.
"Let's go faster," I cried, and she said:
"I hate you."
I'm not paraphrasing. That's precisely what she said.
"But we're not even breathing hard!" I protested.
"I AM!" she panted.
I fell back a few paces. And then I reached my hands behind my back, stretching my arms. That was the last straw. When Tiffany saw that I was keeping pace with her without my hands, she was furious.
"No, seriously, I hate you right now," she spat. "Go ahead of me if you want."
Well, of course I would never leave my girlfriend pedaling by herself on a country road. Especially when my girlfriend was the only one of us who had memorized the route. I dropped back even further, and we rode the rest of the 32 miles in silence (ps-that's a really long time).
Rather than accept my superior biking abilities, Tiffany investigated what might really be going on. It didn't take her long to figure it out: my bike wheels are bigger than hers.
I wasn't sure how much difference this could make, but, to be supportive, I agreed with her.
"No wonder," I said. "I knew I couldn't be that much better than you."
(Wink. Wink.)
But of course she was right. When we took our bikes in for a tune-up, the mechanic validated the wheels theory immediately.
"Damn!" I laughed. "I thought I was just especially fit."
He looked at me standing in front of him with my Target helmet and mismatched hand-me-down spandex.
"No," he said.
PS--For the three of you, who participated in my blog's birthday quiz, we did come up with a winner (although none of the three got all the answers correct... didn't anybody use my search function??). As soon as the winner provides me with a blog post topic, I will get it up as fast as I can...
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