My husband, the darling that he is, surprised me by coming home early last night. He told me to go out and look at his car.
On the back of it, strapped to a bike rack that hadn’t been there before, was a brand new mountain bike. Here I am, happy as can be on my very first mountain bike, all set for a nice long ride:
Now, he had me totally surprised. A few days ago, I was wondering what on earth he needed my height for, and now I know.
The only other bikes I’ve owned in my life have been hand-me-downs and garage sale purchases. In fact, I hadn’t ridden a bike for several years until our honeymoon in Cancun, when we went on a morning ride through the city. On that day, I realized how much I love riding. I’ve wanted a bike since then, and we’ve talked about it, but I didn’t expect this at all.
So, on a beautiful early spring day, we strapped our bikes to the car and drove down to the Ghost Town Trail. I was giddy with excitement. I had a bike!
We’d ridden about, oh, fifty yards when I realized I had a problem.
Now, it had been giving me problems since the previous night, and it does this from time to time. I have no idea what the problem is, and since it always goes away in a day or two, I haven’t gotten around to finding out. It’s something in my lower back, and when it happens I can barely move. Getting off the couch or up the stairs involves much groaning and whinging, and unbearable amounts of pain. I knew it would be a long, long night.
But I kept going anyway. Somehow, it didn’t hurt nearly as much on the bike as it did if I tried to, oh, let’s say walk. We rode probably a mile or two, just cruising along the trail and enjoying the beauty of the day.
After which we came home, and I spent five minutes just trying to put on my pajamas.
Pain or no pain, it was a wonderful day, and an awesome present. So thank you to my husband for being so wonderful and thoughtful. We have a lot of great bike rides ahead of us…
…once my back heals.