For months now my sweet hubs has helped me onto the bike in the hopes that we might get some blood pumping through my legs. And for months I've been wanting to cry at how difficult it is to pedal the stupid pedals.
"My legs are totally screwed," I've been thinking. But still, get up on that bike and move as much as I can, only lasting a minute or so.
Sad, right? Well last night, as I was panting after biking only a tenth of a mile, Hubs noticed that the bike was on the toughest setting. Seriously
It's a small victory, but I'll take it
