Atrophied from the winter layoff, my legs resemble two overcooked spaghetti noodles. My soft legs don’t even rise to al dente status, having instead the consistency of overcooked goo on an elementary school lunch tray. And from months of no exposure to sunlight, my legs share the same bloodless white color as the crawly things that creep and slither away from underneath an overturned rock in the garden. Since the weather has been springy lately, it was time to give those white legs the challenge of a more demanding trail in the Siskiyou Mountains, instead of another flat beach hike. …
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