Three's a crowd

Zdenek and I have a pretty awesome marriage, or so we like to think. Sure, we have our usual fights and disagreements, but generally we are best friends day in and day out. We share everything from habits and likes and dislikes to a single bathroom. I’ve been flattered to have several friends tell me that they aspire to a marriage like Zdenek's and mine, and I know that a few of his colleagues have told him the same thing. Of course, I also know that our marital bliss isn’t all our own doing, and we’re fortunate that our lives are generally stress-free: we don’t typically have financial issues (unless you count the stress over apartment hunting); we’re both healthy and fit; and we lack children, which I’m told is the quickest and surest way to put any relationship under strain. I’m certain the future will bring its fair share of challenges. But for now we’re content to be coasting along pretty easily, including those times that we’re running or biking in tandem.

On Friday, however, our marital bliss was challenged at around mile 10 of our morning ride. After seven consecutive days of pretty tough running and biking workouts, my legs were feeling a bit worse for wear, and so early on in our ride I tucked in behind Zdenek to ease my workload. Zdenek is an excellent teammate -- he’s always looking around to see where I am, and he’s careful to ease the pace if he senses that I’m falling behind. I don’t typically ask him to do this, but I obviously appreciate his help and attention. Of course, if he does happen to drop me (which is most likely to occur on a hill climb), I’m usually not that bothered, either. The way I figure it, we both suffer: he will have to eventually slow down to wait for me to catch up, and I have to work that much harder without the benefit of his slipstream. And occasionally (as on Thursday's third loop), Zdenek will make it clear that he just wants to go for it and really work to his maximal effort; this is also fine by me, because I can fully appreciate his desire to test himself from time to time, and it’s fun to watch from behind as he races away.

All was going smoothly on Friday until just past 100th street. As I followed Zdenek into the descent, we passed an extremely fit woman on a very nice road bike. She looked great (though I’d say, dangerously exposed) in a tight, small cycling jersey. Her arms and legs rippled with just the perfect amount of toned muscle, and her long, blond ponytail waved behind her as she rode. She was definitely a triathlete and no doubt a very competitive one, too. But as I followed Zdenek down the hill, she caught up and overtook me, and then moved in between my bike and his. Because I generally try to avoid crowds when descending at 30 mph on a curvy road, I held back a bit and let her go. Unfortunately, this meant that by the time we reached the uphill portion, I had lost most of my momentum and was unable to make the climb at my usual pace. And by this point, Zdenek was already 10+ meters ahead of me and gaining by the second, so I decided to just spin my way up alone. Meanwhile, Miss Rippling Muscles latched on to my husband’s wheel and let him carry her halfway up the hill!

Upon realizing what was happening and seeing me struggling near the bottom of the hill, Zdenek slowed down to allow the blond bombshell pass and me to catch up. A few minutes later, when he and I were again riding side by side, I commented, “I bet you didn’t fail to notice the absolutely killer body on that woman.” And suddenly, Zdenek became upset! I, unclear as to what I had said wrong, erupted back. We then proceed to yell at one another over the next three miles as all the other runners and cyclists turned to see where the ruckus was coming from. It was both frustrating and unusual. Finally, somewhere in the middle of loop three, we identified the source of our misunderstanding. Zdenek assumed that I had deliberately slowed down to prove some sort of point -- no doubt something related to the fact that a fit, blond woman was competing with me for my husband’s back wheel. Alas, the truth was far less exciting: I simply wasn’t brave enough on the descent to maneuver my way between the two of them, nor was I powerful enough on the climb to keep up. (And my comment about her body really did come from a place of awe and envy.)

Once we sorted out our misunderstanding, it was smooth riding again. I figure if our biggest disagreements revolve around cycling and hill climbing, then we’re doing pretty well. In fact, I think that all of the running and cycling Zdenek and I do together has taught us a lot about mutual encouragement, respecting one another’s abilities and limitations, and that an important part of any happy marriage is alternating who has to get out of bed first for coffee brewing duties in the morning. Most importantly, cycling with Zdenek has reinforced that whenever I should fall behind, he can always be counted on to wait for me -- and it will take a lot more than toned muscles and a nice bike for someone to come between that.