Hosed!

After over a month of whining about my shin split tendinitis anterior tibialis muscle strain, the most scruitinzed phisical condition to hit Washington since Gilbert Arenas' bruised knee or Joe Theisman's snapped leg or Bill Clinton's bent, uh, well, anyway today it felt pretty good, taking me on a pain-free commute in (6.25 miles) and home (15 miles), over the hills and far away (like the Led Zeppelin song), but I only did Anglers and let's face it, 21 miles is not too far.

Speaking of whining, my "Buddies" decided to record my tepid return to riding by posting same Frogman with the compression sock (old-man hosiery) prescribed by my P.T. Now you're thinking that a self-respecting cyclist with any sense of style would do the smart thing and stay home or ride on the sidewalk where this fashion attrocity wouldn't be noticed by anyone who mattered.
But I didn't.
In fact I grabbed anything green to announce that I Am Back and by next week ready to take a pull or maybe not get dropped on River. Ambitious? You decide when I rip somebody's legs off besides my own.