March is too friggin' cold for much in this part of the country, but every now and then a good day sneaks in. We'd had rain, and more rain, so trails were out for the time being (soggy clay makes for bad rides); that, and it was early in the year -- fourth time on the bike since New Year's. Since I had to stay paved, I was glad for the semi-slicks I had for commuting; they roll just a bit better than Kenda Klaws. It didn't take long to start huffing and puffing (did I mention or hint that I was outta shape?), but it felt good to work the cranks. Things worked pretty good for the first few miles, nothing to make me think it was special. Started noticing some of the side trails in the first park, but when you can see both ends, why bother? Keep crankin', keep puffin'. The second park had a climb that was short, but like a wall! Five pounds less body weight to put on the pedals, and I would have walked it. Going down the other side was gravy, just making it up was a reward. When I came to the spot where I had originally planned to turn back for home (outta shape, did I say?), the ride was still just too good to me. Dodge a jogger in jeans, and here we go. The third park was nothing special, until I got to the far side, where the only available non-paved surface for the whole ride was. Half as tall, but another wall...of wet muck. I hit the top of the rise just as my cleats hit grass. Almost lost a nut there,.... While some homeless guy watched blankly, I clipped back in and took the drop on the other side. I don't trackstand all that well (distracted too easily, I guess), and I hated the thought of unclipping again so soon, so I waited out traffic in a slow circle of a driveway entrance. Second turnaround point...nah! Finish it out. I was real familiar with the lactic acid by now, having tussled with it for 75 minutes. But something in the back of my head said, 'ride through it like a puddle -- see what's on the other side.' Too early in the year, my common sense told me. (Shut up!) There was the end of the ride, and time to turn around. I didn't have the gas left in the tank to reverse course, so I took a shortcut on the road through town. Chewed lactic acid like candy for 45 more minutes. My legs are still ripped and swollen now, 1 1/2 days later. Like Mickey D's says, "I'm Lovin' It!"