Every morning we seem to cross paths. More precisely, you seem to blow by me, up a steep grade, every morning with ease. Last year, you merely whipped around me. Now you make a point to say "cheers" without any hint of breathlessness. I'm struggling up the hill with my two panniers on my bike. I'm lucky to be going 10 km/h mid-way up the hill. You seem to be doing 300 km/h, easily. You also have two panniers and are also riding in full work clothing. Clearly doping/crack/meth is working well for you. Please pass some to me tomorrow morning.
I hate you.
Hugs,
commutr
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Ha ha ha.
I wish you were writing this note to me... but alas I am always on the verge of having my lungs spontaneously combust on my way up hills, especially first thing in the morning.
In reality, I'm just jealous he can do it and I can't. ;)
Post a Comment