The legs

     I have tiny, little, skinny bird legs.  And I'm not comparing my legs to a bird's femur, more like the fibula.  Stick like.  Many moons ago, we were driving back from a heiau somewhere in Hawaii.  I saw an older Asian man and I pointed out the thinness of his legs to my wife (who was from Ukrainian stock) and she said, "Yours are about the same size."  Ouch.  Well, at least that got me to to take a look see at my legs and realize she was right.  I think the only time my legs increased in size was when I was living in Newport Beach and riding a bike every day, sometimes, I'd ride up to Santa Monica, once, I took a completely unplanned trip down to Baja California - I pointed southward and pedaled.  I don't believe my legs will ever get to the point where I'm outside of the bird category, I can only hope for a move from sparrow to chicken to goose to turkey.  There may be a crow between the sparrow and chicken, hopefully before I get to the mountains.
     And today, I rode from Oxnard to Culver City.  There is a surprising elevation gain between County Line and the other side of Malibu that one does not feel much when driving by in a car. Thanks to the google maps gods, I was directed by my voice navigation not up the mountain that leads to Pepperdine University, but down along the rich folks who live on Malibu road.  Winning!  So I got my first taste of hills today and friends, they were entirely devoid of sugar.  Because I am completely lacking in shame, I have a strategy that I think will work - I stop when my bird legs quiver or get tired, take a few minutes, then get back in the saddle.  I think I should have asked the Norwegian guy in India just how long it took him to be able to handle the mountains.