He didn’t really want to be awake at this hour, but it was the only way. Or one of them, at least. Because he wanted to spend more time with her, he would rise before the sun, making use of the small window between their entwined slumber and the dirge of another day at the office. But still she saw those stolen hours as time he could be spending in her company. She never said it, but he knew…
He didn’t want to give her up, nor the bike. Why should he have to choose? He loved them both, of course, in different ways. She never asked him to make a choice, she knew how much it meant to him, and she knew how much he meant to her, and her to him. There would never be one or the other. There never could. He would always be shared between her and the bike, though in the literal sense, he truly only loved her. In some strange way, she felt lucky for this.
He had made concessions, a ride conveniently forgotten, waylaid, postponed. Still, it seemed to her that he was always flitting off to the trails, always managing to squeeze in another loop. There was never enough time in the day, he would lament. Always tired, both of them. His energy used for the ride, legs and back dully aching, mentally drained, too fatigued to do anything but sleep.
They were not interested in fighting. I don’t want to fight, she said. He didn’t want to either. Rather than fight, they simply wouldn’t talk. When he told her that he could never give up his bicycle to another man, her reaction was one of bemusement. It’s just a bike, she said. His contemptuous retort indicated otherwise; he would never give her up to another man, it’s just not done. Same with the bicycle.
She accepted, if not understood. How could he compare her to a bicycle? He couldn’t, she was the most important part of his puzzle, one that had taken an age to find all the right pieces and fit them together. Some pieces could be interchanged, but not that one. She never wanted to be a Velomiwidow. He would see to it that she wasn’t.
Flesh and blood, steel and rubber, heart and soul.
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beautiful writing. I will have to share this with the wife.
Wow Brett. I didn't know you've been peeking in my house windows all summer. It's kinda creepy.
I'm sure there are others who will chime in on the similarity of feeling after reading this post (and some who will chime in after reading just the comments :smiley:), but for me it's this sort of similarity in life choice, life style, and life balance that creates the intangible connection between patrons of this site. It's why I keep coming back.
Powerful stuff, Brett. I paraphrase Raul Duke in saying: "Hell of a thing to lay on a man with a head full of acid."
In seriousness, though, I hope to get past this with my fiance. If I can't get her to assimilate, then hopefully she will at least accept it.
Nice Brett,
"She never said it, but he knew..."
30 years on and our dance, which started when I was racing (her voice on the side lines still echo) meant that sometimes I say I've done too much and sometimes she says go, you need a ride, you'll be better company when you come back.
Now as our work schedules mesh in a new way I find that the monster early a.m. Saturday and Sunday ride, while the teacher grades papers sets me up to be a patient semi zombie, happy in the mall, to sit in the chair holding the purse.
@Rob
A-Merckx brother.
@Rob
This rings so true. I count myself truly blessed to have a wife that not only supports but encourages the lifestyle I have chosen.
Very nicely written Brett. Maybe I've just missed it in the past, but I had never seen the 'VMW' term used here before. Very appropriate for those of us with a significant other that doesn't fit in to the VMH category since she doesn't ride.
@Gianni I don't know if you remember that little but high pitched and powerfully carrying "Go Robbie" that I could hear every lap of a crit or on top of the highest of hills! It would always make me smile.
@DCR Yes I am lucky. Some times I wonder what it would be like to have a partner who rides as much as I do... And when I meet them I wonder does it really work?? What happens when one can no longer ride or keep up?
I am currently riding on the weekend with such a couple and they are impressive. She is as much a leg breaker as he. They are the first I have encountered since my youth when young couples often rode together. These 2 are mid life, post kids and professionals and they ride hard and well.
Nicely done Brett.
I'm also happy to testify to my velomissus' tolerance and acceptance of my steel and carbon mistresses.
As she says, they're cheaper than cars and less trouble than blondes.
The line about sharing the bike rings so true to me. When I was in college I had my #1 bike in my dorm room at all times when not riding it. My roommate was not a cyclist. I also had a really good friend who was actually racing for a small pro team in the US who went to my college and was friends with my roommate as well. One day I came back to my room after class and found my pro racer friend sitting on my bike in my room. We both just looked into each other's eyes and he quickly and respectfully got off my bike and deeply apologized. I said it was okay but you could tell it was wierd. My non-cyclist roomamte looked at us like we were from outer space or something but both my racer firend and I knew that he had done wrong.
My roommate never got it and never could. Truthfully only true cyclists understand. Bikes are not for sharing.