Research into bicycle safety via the internet has me concluding that I need to avoid the unpredictability of a multi-purpose path where a dog could lunge at me. I resigned myself to getting over my old fear and taking the road, so I got all decked out and, with a rush of adrenaline and a bit of terror, I entered onto the main street that cut through our subdivision and connected us to the other two in succession. With a nice bike lane, I made my way along. Of course, someone came out of a side cul-de-sac on her racing bike and quickly left me in the dust and feeling every bit of my inexperience, but I remained steady and steadfast as I made my way through the subdivision. I know there are hand signals, but I can’t quite take my hands off the bars to even try. But I stopped at all stop signs. It was early, so there weren’t any cars as I continued along. I have to say, I’d been disappointed that I hadn’t felt any of that true burn I was expecting to tell me I was affecting my muscles. Holy crap, I felt that burn all across the tops of my thighs as I passed one street and continued along before turning around and heading back. Another real cyclist passed my amateur self then sped off on a 20-mile ride, no doubt, while I made my way, winded and sweaty, back home. It was a longer trip, and I was feeling it.
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