I rode 15.25 miles yesterday, and it almost killed me. Well, really only mile 8. I woke up feeling pretty good, so since I hadn’t ridden in quite a while, I felt like going out. And, to my undoing, I thought I’d stretch my normal ride from 8 miles to 15. Not the best decision in hindsight. In mile 8 I was just dieing so I stopped and proceeded to puke up all of the undigested Dr Pepper I’d had that morning. I do not recall the last time I puked. It must be like college or maybe even high school. A long time. Anyway, after I cooled off for some number of minutes, I got back on and rode home. Interestingly enough the rest of the ride, while I took extremely slow, was pretty uneventful. When I made it home, I really wasn’t nearly as tired as I could have been given the circumstances. I felt it the rest of the day, though. My sternum still feels a little sore, and since the ride was twice as long (over an hour), my butt and arms weren’t feeling so hot. But, I did it, and it didn’t kill me, so that’s not nothing.