I blame Brian.
I want that clear from the start.
We were sitting around, being lazy, minding our own business, when the ping of Steve’s phone announced a text.
Steve: Brian bought a bike.
Me: Oh, yeah? Cool.
Steve: He’s doing the MS150.
And that’s how it started.
Steve seemed…excited, interested, curious?
Those of you that know us are probably aware that we did a 10K last fall. Setting up physical challenges is a great way to keep the body moving in middle-age. *nods*
(That would be based on the well known use-it-or-lose-it theory of aging.)
Usually I’m the one that drives these little goals, so I was a tad surprised at Steve’s apparent enthusiasm. However.
Biking is exercise. Exercise is good. Go, Steve!
A little more back and forth. I continued to offer encouragement.
Which seemed to go nowhere? I nudged.
Steve balked.
It appeared he did not want to do the ride without me.
I balked.
My talents do not include grace, coordination, or the slightest affinity for anything remotely mechanical. Indeed, some days, the ability to balance for long periods on my own two feet can be a challenge.
Still, he seemed so interested….
More discussion. Steve refused, simply refused, to leave me behind and ride on his own.
Marriages are a serious of compromises. Give and take. I can recognize a fait accompli when I see one.
I girded my loins.
We bought bikes.
Now, like most couples who’ve been together for some time, we are excellent communicators.
Just not with each other.
Our first ride quickly indicated my fears of cycling ineptitude were not imagined.
Me: I…am really not sure I am going to be able to do this.
Steve: What?
Me: There is no way I can do this.
Steve: I thought you wanted to do this ride?
Me: I’m only doing it because you seemed so interested.
Steve: I’m only doing it because you seemed so interested!
Me: Me? Are you crazy?
Steve: I was trying to be supportive!
I will spare you the latter part of the conversation. 😜
Yep. Brian’s fault. Totally.
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