What an amazing weekend. Well actually, what an amazing Sunday. Sometimes everything just makes sense—falls in to place and settles down hours later with a sigh of relief. My legs and my sides are screaming at me, joyously but still screaming. I am aware of their existence more so today than any other day. We went on a long bike ride yesterday. We rode to Manhattan by way of the 59th (Queensboro) Bridge. We continued on into Central Park, stopping for pictures and gulps of water (only) along the way. Central Park is like finding a 20 dollar bill in the pocket of your old jeans (you never wear anymore). It’s right there, I have walked through it a thousand times. I have sat and watched the dogs. I have even played Frogger trying to cross the bike/rollerblade/horse trail. But up until yesterday, I hadn’t realized just how exciting, long and beautiful it really is. And I thank myself for the work out. My body thanks myself. And not a drop of any booze either, early nights, early mornings. It’s good to feel this way. Why hadn’t I started sooner?
And if the weekend hadn’t been so fulfilling, I would be spitting on my monitor over the 1 and a half hour commute I had this morning. Alas, such is life. I will not complain. (Rise above it, you big bitch).
I’ll post my pictures in a few.
Mihow 
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