Oh, Thanks God. I get it, I think.

So, Saturday's team workout was to ride the actual triathlon route and run afterward. So, 2/3 of the triathlon. Not bad, right? We did lots of hills at the outdoor workouts before, so I should be just fine.

Forget I'm a little nervous about my crappy bike whose chain derails at every opportunity.

Forget that it's 33 balmy degrees outside.

Forget that I was already feeling like a lump of tiredness because I actually kicked ass all week in work outs.

Forget that I'd had a teeny false sense of security-- riding in the industrial part does not equate to riding in 'the wild', complete with traffic.

I was doing great in the beginning. I was keeping up with everyone. Until the first big hill, when my chain derailed because I shifted too quickly. But the hills, oh the hills. And my bike doesn't shift low enough.

But every time I gracefully landed in the dirt, I waived to the folks passing me on their bikes, smiled at the concerned motorists driving by and chatted with the neighbors who were getting their morning papers at the ends of the driveway.

Oh my GOD the hills. In spin class, you control the resistance. In the real world you're hauling your 165 pound ass, plus the bike up a hill and you're freakin' tired. The resistance controls you.

I'm still tired. Just talking about it 24 hours later. It took me almost an hour and a half to go 14 miles. The full triathletes did 20 miles in a shorter time than it took me. They still smiled and cheered me on. Triathletes are good people.

You'd think I want to quit at this point. But I don't. Not until I kick it's ass. I'm going to find a web site that tells me what the hell I need to adjust and get back on that stupid bike. Even though my ass hurts.