Today, the husband and I awoke a bit later than usual. I had planned to run 4-miles. The husband planned to ride 2-hours. But this time change thing has not sat well with me. I know I'm a handful when I am not sleep deprived, so I'm just going to just deny, deny, deny that I'm even more so every spring about this time of year when we have to spring the clocks ahead. The husband may disagree.
Somehow, he talked me into riding on the CompuTrainer instead of running. How he did it will forever remain a mystery to us all as I was on the wee bit cranky side of life this morning. I had once again regressed into cave man grunting. And since I am still on the Starbucks embargo, I still had no coffee. With a wash of the face, a bit of deodorant, and a brush of the hair and teeth out the door I was.
It takes about 15-20 minutes to warm up for these cycling sessions before one actually begins their course. For this one, I had planned to ride to keep my rpm's around 80 to 90. A good ride which isn't too difficult on a flat-road-with-no-wind. About 1/4 into my ride, I decided; however, to do interval training. For no other reason than I was inspired by the husbands training ride provided to him by his Nazi bike trainer. So, while he did his 20-minute intervals with a 10-minute rest period, I only did 2-minutes of intervals with a 3-minute rest period (5 intervals only). I. Thought. I. Was. Going. To. Die. Or puke. Sometimes it doesn't really matter which occurs as they're both equally dreadful.
Anyhow, about 45-minutes into our course ride, the conversation that popped out of nowhere went something like this:
"Honey. . . . if you trimmed down a bit you'd be a really good racer."
Me with laser beam death ray eyes calmly turned and looked directly at the husband.
"Well, uhhh. . . . you would. You, uhhh. . . . have a lot of power."
Somehow, he talked me into riding on the CompuTrainer instead of running. How he did it will forever remain a mystery to us all as I was on the wee bit cranky side of life this morning. I had once again regressed into cave man grunting. And since I am still on the Starbucks embargo, I still had no coffee. With a wash of the face, a bit of deodorant, and a brush of the hair and teeth out the door I was.
It takes about 15-20 minutes to warm up for these cycling sessions before one actually begins their course. For this one, I had planned to ride to keep my rpm's around 80 to 90. A good ride which isn't too difficult on a flat-road-with-no-wind. About 1/4 into my ride, I decided; however, to do interval training. For no other reason than I was inspired by the husbands training ride provided to him by his Nazi bike trainer. So, while he did his 20-minute intervals with a 10-minute rest period, I only did 2-minutes of intervals with a 3-minute rest period (5 intervals only). I. Thought. I. Was. Going. To. Die. Or puke. Sometimes it doesn't really matter which occurs as they're both equally dreadful.
Anyhow, about 45-minutes into our course ride, the conversation that popped out of nowhere went something like this:
"Honey. . . . if you trimmed down a bit you'd be a really good racer."
Me with laser beam death ray eyes calmly turned and looked directly at the husband.
"Well, uhhh. . . . you would. You, uhhh. . . . have a lot of power."
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6 comments:
TRIM DOWN?
Oh no, no, no, no, NO HE DID NOT.
Death ray eyes were warranted, without a doubt. Then I'd start crying. But that's just me.
I'm thinking somewhere in the great state of Texas it must be considered justifiable homocide.
No jury could possibly convict on that comment in and of itself. None.
Oh, man. Anyone know where I left my black suit and tie? I think I might need it soon.
It's not like he's wrong. I mean, I DO need to trim down, but. . . uhhhh . . . . WHO TELLS A WOMAN THAT? Especially without thinking they'd be put at least 6-feet under after saying it.
To err on the side of caution for HIS side (if there is one), I believe he was trying to be "supportive" of my weight loss journey and I think that statement came out in a very.wrong.way.
Very wrong.
He is a very, very brave man....
my hubby is too afraid to tred anywhere near the weight talk.... any time I even think of asking anything about my weight...I just get an "I love you." and that's it. ;)
Four-mile run the day after Turkey Day? I admire you!
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