Last night I went for a bike ride. Nothing special except that I hadn’t been in the saddle since May. While my husband was chugging away the miles and training for a triathlon I’d found excuses not to ride. It was too hot, I was too tired, laundry was piling up, I had to walk the dog, there was writing and editing to do.
Watching my thighs descent into jiggle mode, I finally decided it was time. The wind blew hot and steady like a hair dryer, but I bravely climbed on the seat. Even more bravely, my husband volunteered to go “slow†next to me. The first round—we ride a circle through our neighborhood—about two miles felt as if my legs were filled with lead. On each small hill, the route meanders up and down, I’d almost come to a stop, frantically shifting into smaller gears, while my husband easily passed me up.
In round two I decided my bike was broken. Gears rattled and my chain ground in protest. I was destroying the bike, my husband commented dryly. No, I insisted, it was definitely the bike. In round three, things were becoming smoother, I was a little faster and didn’t have to shift as much. By round four, the grinding and rattling had stopped.
By the time I finished and my husband began his “real†ride, I was smiling (thanks to the dopamine). I’d successfully overcome the lethargy of summer. Soon it’ll be time for another ride. Got to get those legs in shape.
Loved the article! I can relate, as I am just starting training for my FIRST (and maybe last!) triathalon, The Rambling Rose, September 21st. For me, the bike training is even harder than the running and I’m still trying to figure out the gears. How did Ben do on his biathalon? Would love to see pictures! Keep writing, Annette! I love your stories!