Chris is good for me because he's my censor. My pause button and impulse control. He reminds me to "sleep on it" before making a big decision. He's saved me money and a bit of pride on more than one occasion.Chris, on the other hand, is careful and measured and rarely makes a bad decision. It's one of the things I love about him. But it means a decision can incubate for a very long time as he turns the situation and all the options over and over in his mind. As much as he reins me in, I try to be his kick in the butt.
When we first started talking about the possibility of him doing the Paris-Brest-Paris ride, he hesitated. Can we afford it? Would he be able to find the time to train enough, ride enough? Was the timing right? Was he a strong enough rider?
"Just do it. We'll figure out the details. We'll make it work. You can so totally do this," I tell him. I admit I was not totally selfless in my encouragement. A trip to France?!? Of course, as a supportive spouse, I'd need to go with him. He would need someone at the finish line holding that bottle of champagne in celebration.
I knew we were on our way to France when the alarm goes off at 3:45 a.m. on a cold, drizzly Saturday. Chris is not a morning person. The only time he willingly gets up at such an ungodly hour is the day we leave for our annual trip to the Outer Banks in the North Carolina.
When the alarm went off at 3:45 a.m. and he got up to leave for his brevet (one of the organized qualifying rides he had to do to be eligible for PBP), I snuggled into his side of the bed, with a smile on my lips, and dreamt of the Eiffel Tower.
No comments:
Post a Comment