Every night I ask, “are you riding tomorrow?”
Truth be known, I can tell in the run up to bedtime whether it’s on or not. Ride mornings are always preceded by evenings of frantic text and whats-apping as you and seemingly many other lycra clad MAMIL
nutbags studs try to organise where in the inky morning blackness you’re going to rendezvous at 5 a.m.
My love, I made a promise to you that I would never complain about your strange lycra habit, due to its positive impact on your male friendships and mental wellbeing, and I’ve been true to my word, have I not?
This morning I have something to say, though and it’s going to come as a bit of a shock so please step away from the Strava and sit up for me if you would be so kind.
I can see you now, your dear brown eyebrows with the wild bits, and that crinkly bit between them with the two lines, wiggling up and down in bafflement. “Huh?”
You’re off to look in the mirror now for the wild and crinkly bits aren’t you, I know you so well.
There’s a thought bubble forming in the air around you isn’t there, it says; “WTF, thank you?”
You’re thinking, “Weren’t you about to go off on one of your wife rants about how I stumble around beeping the Garmin and cursing while I hunt for the other glove under the dog bed?”
Well, I can’t speak for the pup and why he has a fetish for padding around the house with your sweaty, feral fingerless gloves in his mouth, but more importantly why on earth hasn’t some enterprising soul invented a coffee cup carrier for bikes? There’s one for prams so think how much kudos could be gained when upon returning home grunting and sweaty, you presented your beloved (that’s me) with a cup of hot, steaming cappuccino. Guaranteed action baby. After Strava.
Anyway where was I?
Ah yes, “thank you.”
This morning, instead of burying my head under my pillow and muttering “Will you just go so I can go back to sleep,” I got up. True, I waited unto you’d left so we didn’t actually have to make conversation, you know, where we exchange pleasantries and smile. We’re not good at that in the morning are we? I’m totally ok with that.
What a revelation this morning was. Before 8a.m. I’d fished the pup out of a slime pond, while out running on the golf course, bathed, de-slimed and fed said pup, made a new friend who told me her life story, discussed blog strategy with same new friend, downed a large cappuccino (which I purchased), had breakfast, marshalled middle teen and baby tween up and out of the house for the day, and caught up on my reading.
The question is of course, why don’t I do this every day? It feels so GOOD!
So back at what this has to do with you my love, if you didn’t have the motivation to get up early dear Rory, I wouldn’t do it. I’m lazy and I love my bed, more especially so with you in it. By rolling out of bed grunting, huffing at the weather forecast, peering at the sky through the open shutters, and what’s-apping your day, you ease me out of my sleepy comfort zone, out of bed and into a happier more productive place; set for the day.
How very fabulous this lycra fetish of yours is. Mmm hmm.
What time do you get up?
Are you a productive morning person?