I reached a painful realization last night. I am out of shape.

I never really thought I was that out of shape. I mean, I’ve seen a lot worse. I usually think I’m pretty active. On the weekends I’m always outside doing something, and I spend my lunch break at the gym at least two days a week. But apparently it’s not enough, because I still allowed myself to get out of shape.

I reached that realization last night when I decided to take my toddler for a bike ride. People are always comparing things to riding bikes. “It’s like riding a bike, you never forget,” they’ll say. Well, you might not forget how, but I must have forgotten something, because it never used to be so difficult.

When I was younger I spent hours riding my bike up and down the road in front of my house. I would get my friends or my sisters and we would spend hours riding over the same three mile stretch of road over and over again.

I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I’ve gone biking, but after spending some time on the stationary bike at the gym on Monday, and barely breaking a sweat, I figured how hard could it be?