Word of the day: cardio

Madre woke me up eeeearly (read: 9 or 9:30ish) to go walk with her and Goola.  Our terrain included about a mile along the beach to get in a good calf workout.  All together, we walked 3 and a quarter miles, but we had to come back to get Padre off to the bus station on time.  When we got back, I took Poppy and Goola's dog Cooper for a walk.  After a first half-mile loop around the neighborhood, I was all geared up for a second.  Cooper, however, broke our "no pooping" agreement, so I brought him home as a consequence.  

Still feeling adventurous, I hopped on Goola's bike to ride the Cape Cod bike path.  We used to ride bikes, then rollerblade, on this path every single day of the summer when I was little.  I haven't been on it in the last half of my lifetime, though.  I took a quick lap around the neighborhood to make sure I still knew how to ride a bike, then took the scenic route around another neighborhood trying to find the cut-through to the bike path.  Once I finally found it, memories came flooding back into my head.  I loved riding through the metal tunnels that go underneath crossing roadways.  My cousins and I would scream at the top of our lungs riding through them to get the loudest possible echoes.  Don't worry, I still spoke or sang out loud, as if checking to make sure echoes still exist, when I rode through the first three tunnels, not a soul in sight.  On the last one, there was a family coming through.  My self-consciousness took over, but I was thrilled to hear the small child being toted along in one of those wagons squealing with glee!  

I passed the place where I fell and broke my arm as a tween.  It used to be a sandy trail that led from the bike path to one of our favorite ice cream shops.  I think the owners paved it within the first year after I fell there: 

Eventually I got thirsty, and the storm clouds started rolling in, so I headed home.  

Mental notes for next time - those Nike running shorts are just a teensy bit too short for riding a bike.  It's kind of hard to feel cool wearing a helmet and shorts that ride up in all the wrong places,

(not to mention a shirt with a figure skate on it), but the fanny pack helped me maintain confidence.  That, and the knowledge that I was riding an Eastwood bike. 

Anytime I started feeling lame, I just pictured this guy:

and remembered how bad-a I must look.  

My trusty steed:

Pretty good day, if I say so myself.  Walked a total of 3.85 miles and biked 11.5.  Plus, I tried to imagine my trainer in my ear most of the way:  "Shoulders down.  Chest out.  Abs in."  

Let's see if I can keep this up for the next few days...

Oh, and for all you basketball fans, only 3 days til the "LeBron Sweepstakes"!