So here's the deal. Lance Armstrong wins Tour de Frances, that's just what he does (or did, I suppose). He rode his bike over treacherous terrain, up steep winding mountains, through driving wind and pouring rain; 2,241 miles and at the end he stood on the top of a podium pumping his fist and smiling.
Well, Armstrong, meat Armweak. I went on an 8-mile ride over the rugged terrain that is the paved bikepaths of Chicago that are about as mountainous as I-80 through Nebraska. About mile seven I was so exhausted I fell face-forward in my seat and that was that. Passed out. Oh, and if I didn't mention this already, I wasn't even pedaling.


...maybe I should start wearing those yellow LiveStrong bracelets...

So passed out that even after the bike staff (Mom) got my helmet off I stayed asleep, all the way up the stairs and into bed. Needless to say I awoke with a newfound respect for cyclery.