Twenty miles into a bike ride on the Champlain Islands last Saturday, my left knee developed a slight tingle.
At that point, I should probably have reconsidered the next 34 miles of the ride. Hopped off by the side of the road, walked for a while, sent my friends on without me and asked them to swing back and pick me up when they were done.
But as I’ve discovered over the years, I have a persistent inability to admit weakness and a competitive streak that keeps me going long after I should have stopped to recuperate.