Today as I rode up that last hill to home I could not figure out why it seemed that I was barely making any headway, and standing up in the pedals was not nearly as turbo-boosted as usual. It was pretty windy, and as I finally crested the hill and turned into our neighborhood I realized it really had been aimed right at me. (I just checked and it was 15-20 miles per hour.)
This is almost exactly what it's like to be pregnant. Suddenly you actually notice that it takes an effort to, say, walk the 10 feet from the couch to the kitchen. As though there is a headwind from every single direction.
It's noisy, too: I get distracted easily and have trouble remembering things. Yesterday I thought a student was coming at 11:30 and thereby stood him up at 11. Today I showed up what turned out to be 30 mintues too early on my bike at tiff's, knocking on her slider and waving like a lunatic in my bike helmet.
If only I lived in South America, where a half hour here or there is inconsequential. (J is laughing right now, since this kind of schedule would drive me beyond batty.)