Today, in the spirit of continuing the program while resting my angry feet, we took a bike ride of just over seven miles. Going out, it felt like when I was a kid and I could ride and simply have fun, enjoying the day. Coming back, I found out why the first half of the ride had been so ridiculously easy. The wind was at our backs. It might seem surprising, but you don’t always notice it when it isn’t slamming into your face at forty miles per hour. When it is, you curse it and fight to keep the small amount of momentum you can gather on flats.
I came home to shower and found I have several more funny colored patches on my cheeks and stomach. They aren’t scary, merely pigment variations, but it is strange to look in the mirror and find your face has changed, especially when you *just* looked in the mirror and everything had been business as usual.
Last night we checked my resting heart rate. It was after a meal, so it may have been a bit high. One reading was 76, a second was 81. I’ll settle for the average of the two: 78.5