Let's say that you're out walking your dog around noon on a sunny, spring Friday. Now, let's say that during your walk, you bump into a good friend who's an incredible athlete. After the two of you walk your dogs for a bit, your friend invites you to grab your bike and join her for a ride out to Stone Mountain and back.
"Only 38 miles?," you mutter, considering the invitation. "Sure. Why not? I was planning on sitting on my fat ass and watching basketball all afternoon. I should probably get some exercise."
And let's say that accept the invitation and hurry home to grab your bike and get your gear together. Then, on riding all the way out to the mountain, you make the decision that the two of you would actually bike the grueling hills inside Stone Mountain Park. On the way home, you might find that your neck and shoulders start to hurt, along with your hands. After all, you probably do more mountain biking than road cycling.
So, if you biked nearly forty miles in about 2 hours and 45 minutes (including a couple of breaks), hypothetically, your ass might be killing you the next day. I'm just saying.
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