Thursday, October 03, 2013
My husband is a runner. By "runner" I do not mean normal person who puts on running shoes, leashes up the dog, and heads out for an hour or so. That's the kind of runner I am. The kind of runner he is, is the kind of runner who puts on running shoes and runs across town and back, then complains about how he had a stitch in his side about mile 17 but it's ok because he ran through it and is fine now.
So he has an ultra coming up in January. An ultra is a race for oddball people who run a marathon and decide it isn't long enough. There are not a lot of these races around for obvious reasons so this one is in a town about an hour and a half away at a trail around a lake. We've never been there so he wanted to go check it out.
I suggested that we take the bikes and ride the course because that is the only way I'm going to do anything other than run 5 miles down the trail and then turn around and nap in the car until he gets back.
He bought it. Now I'm going to take his bike, the one he hasn't ridden in years down to the bike shop to get it tuned up and just sort of checked out. My hope here is that he really has a good time on this little ride and gets more interested in cycling.
My plan other than making sure his bike is in good working order so he doesn't run into any issues is to pack a picnic lunch and make a day of it.
I'm fine with it if he mostly just wants to run, but it would be fun for him to ride with me from time to time.