The Saturday Morning Ride
One Saturday morning, a cyclist gets up early, gathers the riding clothes he has neatly laid on the bedside chair, and softly slips out of the bedroom. He dresses quietly in the adjacent room, grabs his helmet and riding jacket, and walks to the kitchen to fill a water bottle. He goes to the garage to pump up the tires on his bike and roll out to his favorite Saturday morning ride. As he opens the garage door, he is confronted with a steady drizzle of rain and temperatures hovering just above the freezing mark. There is a hard wind blowing out of the East. He has ridden in these conditions many time before. He doesn't like it, but it's the Saturday ride and he hates to miss it. He stands in the doorway staring at the dismal conditions and, today, he just can't summon the determination. He retreats into the garage and hangs up the bike. Dejected, he returns to the house and tunes the small TV in the kitchen to the Weather Channel. The forecast is for conditions to deteriorate throughout the day. With a sigh, he slips off his shoes, quietly returns to the bedroom, silently undresses, and slips back into bed. There he cuddles up to his wife's back, now with a different kind of anticipation, and whispers, "The weather out there is terrible!" To which she sleepily replies, "Can you believe my stupid husband is out riding in that crap?"
Apologies for the somewhat off-topic post, but I couldn't resist.
Wayne Bingham
Falls Church VA