Where's the Train?

I'm still looking for the train that smacked into me last night, at some point. I woke up this morning feeling like I had been decimated by a freight train. I'm not sure if it was the bike ride yesterday or the fact that I slept on the couch so that my old fart of a dog didn't have to climb the stairs to go to bed (I'm sticking with the latter of the two).

The Old Fart Guarding the Door

The ride yesterday was nothing special, as with all my rides. It was about a 7 mile trek and it turns out that I ended up in the next town over, which I was proud of. 7 miles may not be all that far for most bike riders or even non-bike riders may be snuffing their nose at me, but I tell ya, the New Hampshire terrain is rough. With nearly no flat points on the ride, it's a constant battle to make the climb to the top of the hill. I have no idea of the grades of the steeper hills, but I do know that you really have to give your car the gas to make it up. Needless to say, I am proud of my ride yesterday... despite having to take a break going up the steepest and longest hill, but oh well, I'm new to the sport and am just trying to get in shape, not ride in the next Tour.