I must admit when my wife, a self proclaimed lover of her sleep, came to me and told me that she wanted to start waking up at 5:30 in the morning to go for runs/walks I was skeptical, and frankly slightly afraid for my life at the thought of being the one to wake her up. But, not only did she prove true to her task and dedicated, she was quite accepting of my often “Hol, it’s five o’clock time to get up!” as I poked her and then simultaneously rolled back over, pulled the covers over my head, and promptly went back to sleep.
This transition led to Holly signing up for events. At first it was a 5k or a walk here and there. Then it became her first sprint triathlon. I’m proud to say that she survived and enjoyed it so much that she promptly signed up for another! In my role as the supportive skeptic at first I had now become quite amazed at what she had accomplished. I had gone from taking pleasure in revealing her secret, “yeah and she’s signed up for a triathlon too!!” in such public settings as Giant, Starbucks, CVS, and to anyone, check out clerk, pharmacist, random stranger into the proud husband that would boast about her, “oh yeah, well MY WIFE does triathlons!!”
It was about this time that she started to take a more serious look into the sport of cyclocross. Holly’s bike is a cyclocross bike which means it is geared like a road bike, but has a stouter frame and higher road clearance to compete in cyclocross races. Now for those of you unfamiliar with cyclocross I will provide you with my synopsis. A cyclocross race is an off road race through mud, creeks, hills and valleys often at high speeds whereby participants will most often encounter multiple obstacles (creeks, large rocks, deep mud, abandoned Volkswagon buses from the 70s) which force the rider to madly scramble off their bike, throw said bike on their shoulder, and run, crawl, or otherwise debase themselves to continue to a point in the course where they can madly regain their biking posture and peddle like mad. In a recent interview of a cyclocross race winner, who was caked head to toe with slime and mud, it was remarked that “the mud was really bad with the rain and he ended up running approximately 3 miles of the 7 mile race (please note, during those three miles he would have been shouldering said bike).”
While to a sane and logical person like me this sounded like a terribly inefficient way to end up in the hospital without even a good explanation (yes doctor I slipped in the mud, fell into a creek and dropped my bike on my forearm….) to my wife it has become a goal. Per our agreement, and my checking our insurance policies, she can’t compete in a cyclocross race until she has completed five sprint triathlons. Undaunted, she has completed two and has a third in September. Oh, and lest I forget, the sport of cyclocross is a late fall/winter season sport; apparently the mud, slime, and rocks prefer it that way….
Up until now this had solely been my wife’s transformation and I as loving husband was a support function at best, mascot/cheerleader at worst. Then came the passing of the disease…… I warn the bold among you it comes on innocuous enough with such phrases as “a family 5k would be fun” or “the pedals on my bike are hard to use.” But eventually, you find the supporting role morphing…. Now, as a runner I’ve always been up for the occasional charity 5 or 10k but the evolution of the bicycle has passed me by as such a rapid pace that Lance Armstrong might as well be Orville Reddenbacher in my world. At least that was until the seemingly harmless phrase from my wife “why don’t you take my bike for a bike ride….”
In order to provide the gravity of this invitation it is important to describe to the reader the comparison to my last biking experience with the experience now presented to me. At this point the last time I had ridden a bicycle I was twelve. The bike was a trusty rusty BMX bike. It weighed approximately 40 pounds had one gear, no brakes and was ridden in the standing position in a side to side motion that approximated five side to side swings for each forward lunge. The invitation was to ride my wife’s still relatively new bike which has twenty seven speeds, requires the additional concentration on the part of the rider to keep its feather weight earthbound, and in only the rarest of circumstances should it be ridden in the upright position, preferably by a rider that has a clue, which I did not at the time….
All of this rushed through my mind as I headed out in our neighborhood….. As I descended the first hill I thought about how to Tour De France riders the weight of their bikes is paramount as they attain their competitive positioning within the pack…. That was the first three and a half seconds. Then came the realization that I was in no way, shape, or spandexed form a Tour De France rider I was a very inexperienced rider now traveling at a blinding rate of uncontrolled speed hurtling to what at best was going to be a painful experience and at worst was going to be a pathetic eulogy. I’m glad to report that I was able to regain control (thank you wife for the back brakes first, then front brakes advice you undoubtedly saved me from embarrassing road rash).
Upon regaining control I experienced my first biking high! Like Leonardo DeCaprio in Titanic I was flying and yes, I felt like the king of the world. Unfortunately however this led me to the sin of overconfidence… As I pedaled my way through the paths behind Lake Accotink boldly trying out the various gearing combinations like I had a clue what I was doing I decided to stand up and give the bike the old shimmy and sway which as all of you who paid attention in physics will recall is the secret to Lance Armstrong’s amazing prowess. Oh how a little misinformation can lead to a near death experience….
The shimmy and sway on my old BMX bike at a slow rate of speed did little more than make one look like an inept suburban hoodlum primarily in part to its heft and secondarily to its low center of gravity. The same cannot be said for a modern day road bike, they are light, capable of much faster speeds due to their gearing, and situate the rider in a much higher position in relation to the bike. In short, the old shimmy and sway on a modern day road bike makes the rider look at best like an idiot and at worst (as in my case) like a terrified idiot thanking God for sparing him once again in a short bike ride. In truth, I didn’t even get fully through the motion. I shimmied, but upon my sway in the upright position the whole bike lifted off the ground and danced in three hops approximately two and a half feet to the left. Needless to say I have learned the pleasure of staying in the saddle.
But that was it. I was hooked and with some support from my wife I went down the obsessive path to bikedom. I spent days learning Shimano from Kimono and comparing ultralight frames and their compounds to judging the merits of which performance enhancing supplements I should take to maximize my experience as A BIKER. After much research and consideration and a lot of thought into turning my wife’s hobby to a joint hobby, I purchased a Fuji cyclocross bike. My wife’s pleasure as she took my picture can be summed up in her phrase “now when are you going to do a triathlon with me?”
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This is Reason #7843 I love my husband. :-)
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