You don't need to jog or play tennis or swim in a lake. Stopping on a bike path, and fucking the wind out of your friend bent over his bike, counts as fresh outdoor exercise.
HA! that thumbnail made me think of my first time many years ago, He had me still astride my bike one dark night when I was delivering the evening papers. The bastard never turned up to see if was there the next night for another go. And I was.
