On this Earth Day celebration weekend, I have read quite a few articles about recycling. What's clear to me is that recycling does not have to only mean reusing old jars and putting used newspapers in the bin to be picked up and turned into cereal boxes. Recycling can also include making old ideas new again.
Throughout our marriage, I have wanted to find something athletic that Guido and I could enjoy together (I don’t think marathon consumption of food and wine counts). Our first attempt at a “couple’s activity” was racquetball, which quickly ended after I hit the poor guy in the head with the racquet. Next was running. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long either after we both remembered that I don’t run.
Throughout our marriage, I have wanted to find something athletic that Guido and I could enjoy together (I don’t think marathon consumption of food and wine counts). Our first attempt at a “couple’s activity” was racquetball, which quickly ended after I hit the poor guy in the head with the racquet. Next was running. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long either after we both remembered that I don’t run.
After we tried quite a few other things, we settled on
buying bikes. To us, that sounded like
the perfect activity to do together.
In my mind, riding bikes sounded so sweet and romantic. Anyone remember Kermit and Miss Piggy riding their
bikes in Central Park while singing a duet? While I do not think we look like Kermie and
Miss Piggy (heaven forbid!), I do love the idea of wearing a cute dress and
heels while gently rolling through the park on my shiny bicycle.
Here’s the problem: Guido does not share the same
vision. I imagine his version is
something more like this:
Okay, so I added the sunflowers, but you get the idea. Over time, his ideas about cycling have probably evolved quite a bit, but, in general, Guido is looking to emulate Lance Armstrong and to burn as many calories as
possible while riding his bike at breakneck speeds.
Our first adventure on our bikes was about 13 years
ago. We went with his friend Adam to
ride the trails at Lake Grapevine. Guido
and Adam took off ahead of me and I was doing great until I hit a wet spot on a
bridge and lost control. Before I knew
it, I flew off the bridge and landed in a dry creekbed. Battered and bruised, I decided that was the
end of mountain biking for me, so I hobbled back up to the trail and walked my
bike back to the car. Some people can
take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’, but I’m no Timex when it comes to off-road
cycling.
A year or so later, we relocated to St. Louis and decided to
dust off our bikes again. This time we
were going to ride them on the Katy Trail.
To me, it had everything to offer and more. One, it was relatively flat, because the
trail was originally a railroad track.
Two, it was groomed and there was minimal risk of me taking flight from
my bike. Third, there were lots of
vineyards along the trail where you could pull in and enjoy a sip of wine. Fourth, there were all kinds of interesting
wildlife to see.
We really did enjoy riding out there, but we didn’t
necessarily ride “together.” Guido and I
would start out at the same time and then I would slow down to gaze at the
bluebirds and smell the flowers while Guido discovered he could achieve great
speed on such a flat expanse of trail.
He would whisk away with the wind in his hair and, eventually, loop back around only to find me picking poppies and catching
butterflies. Okay, so I wasn’t really stopped
to pick flowers, but I wasn’t exactly burning rubber down the trail to catch
Guido either.
We took a bit of a bike riding hiatus and then, about five
years ago, we decided to do a sprint triathlon together. The morning of the race came and Guido
assured me that my bike was primed and ready to go (he also serves as my pit crew). We got to the race site, completed the swim,
and set out on the bike leg, and, within a matter of minutes, I thought I was
going to die. We only had to ride 12
miles and I thought I was going to pass out at mile 4. My face was beet red and my legs were burning - it felt like I was riding through sand. Guido was incredibly patient and stuck with
me through the entire thing. As I collapsed into the front seat of our car after the race, I heard
Guido loading up our bikes while cursing a blue streak. As he was putting my bike on the rack, Guido realized
that my tires were extremely low on air.
Yes, I rode 12 miles on what were essentially flat tires. It has taken me quite awhile to recover from that day -- about 5 years, give or take a few days.
Within the past couple of years, Guido has upgraded his bike and taken his riding to a whole new level. He's completed the Hotter than Hell 100-mile race two times and, last September, he finished a Half Ironman. I, on the other hand, sold my bike to a friend's wife and have been pursuing other things...until just recently.
I now have a shiny new bicycle and, once again, we're giving this cycling together thing a whirl. I, too, have evolved and, as a result, I've abandoned my dreams of holding hands while riding our bikes through a field of flowers...and I couldn't sell Guido on the idea of getting a tandem bike. We're trying to strike a happy medium by riding together certain distances and then each going our own way. Guido is pushing me to become a stronger rider and to increase my speed, which is a good thing, because I'm planning to do another triathlon in August and then we're going to ride 47 miles with my aunt in the Tour de Cure in Houston in September. Miss Piggy and Kermit we will never be, but here's to us trying to ride off into the sunset together.
Wish us luck with our recycling efforts! Happy Earth Day!
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