It turns out that she supports that position. Huh.
So we get on our bicycles and she wants to ride to the Seaport (about 3.5 miles.) I freak out and flatly refuse. But I will ride to what I call "The Seals" - a cute little alcove in the East River Park that is full of statues of cavorting seals and water spouts. It's about 2 miles to The Seals, I think.
Off we go, down 6th Street towards the bridge over the FDR and so into the park. I'm already tired. We get to the bridge with its two inclines up. I get off and walk the bike up. Hills have always defeated me.
Off to The Seals. I can hardly breathe. Oh my God, I'm gonna die. Only grim determination gets me back home. I'm wobbly but at least I did it.
And then Beloved advises me that we will be doing this and more every single day. (Apparently World Without End, Amen.) We fight and the net result is that I get one day off per week. I know something is wrong with this but I feel victorious anyway.
As of 4/27/08: