My morning

I bicycled to work today. That doesn't happen very often. Why, you ask? Well, firstly, because I am lazy. Also, because I hate to get sweaty-especially when I have to face a whole workday without showering immediately after getting sweaty. And finally, because there are four separate buses that will happily transport me from practically my front door to practically my office door in less time than it takes me to bike there.
Today, however, I knew I would want to bike home in the afternoon. I have to wait a bit longer in the afternoon for a bus, and in the 90-something degree heat that can make me quite cranky, indeed.
So, this morning I unlocked my bike, loaded up my basket, squeaked my rubber squeaky toy bike horn and set on my way. Not even two minutes into my bike ride I started noticing things. The sky, for example, was so clear and bright and full of promise early in the morning. Then, I bike by the biggest, juiciest, chubbiest bright pink thistle I've seen in a looooooong while. That made me pretty happy. As I turned toward the west, it was impossible not to notice the mountains. The flatirons had that happy glow that only comes from a full night of sleep. Well-rested mountains are very cheeful looking. When I came near Boulder Creek, I could hear it greeting me in its bubbly brook way. A morning symphony, and all within two minutes of leaving my house. I began to wonder why I don't bike to work EVERY morning!!!
I biked along the path, listening to worm-hunting birdies, passing early morning joggers (and may I just mention that true to Boulder fashion, many of them looked like the Bionic Woman or the Hulk or something), and savoring the cool morning breeze.
Finally, I came face to face with the monster that resides at the end of my bike route: a little hill I like to call "Mt. Everest." Mt. Everest, as you might have guessed from the name, is not a small hill. It is steep. So steep that I have to get off my bike and walk it up. And I don't mean a little, jaunty walk with a spring in my step. No sirrreeee. I mean a lean forward at a 45 degree angle, push ALL your weight into your bike handle bars, take one huge breath, and go kind of walk. Then, I get embarassingly out of breath, huffing and puffing, but pretending I'm not, lest someone see me. I'm definitely remembering why I don't bike to work every day now!!!
Today, as I was laboring up this hill, I heard a bike approaching over my left shoulder. Some dude was going to try biking up it. hehehe. This could be fun. I secretly desired his failure. I mean, maybe if he finally fell off his bike, overtaken by the steep grade, I could feel a little less ridiculous walking up. (Oh, and I would like to take this moment to mention that my beloved husband bikes up this hill. But, he is superhuman, so he doesn't really count). Okay, the biker passed the huffing puffing me, started pedaling slower....and slower...........and...................slower... .........Then he started weaving side to side. and....finally....lost........his ......balance because he was going too slow. Doesn't Mt. Everest claim something like 1 in 4 people who climb it? Well, I think the same can be said of this Mt. Everest hill. Oh, and one more thing... when I reached the top of the mountain, I mean hill, I decided it ISN'T named. Mt. Everest. I've found a much more fitting, descriptive name: Mt. DooDooHead.