Greener Grass

This morning I saw C. riding in the park. His significant other, who usually trains with him side-by-side, was nowhere to be seen. Unusual, but not an unhappy situation. C.'s S.O., let's call her "Sarah", really hogs everyone's attention. I give her props, because she's a fast runner and trains almost as hard as I do. But come on! We don't need to hear all about YOU all the time. Leave some oxygen in the room for the rest of us. Jeez Louise. Oh, so you got a new couch. Oh, so you went to a "cool, hip" concert (while I was busy training, ahem). Oh you just went on an amazing trip. Yay for you. Oh you have an amazing boyfriend who you train with all the time (except this morning - trouble in paradise?). Goody.

But this morning I had C. all to myself. We talked about training and the conditions of River Road, favorite places to ride, random stuff like that. C. never complained about Sarah, but I could tell he wanted to confide something in me. I could tell that there was a real reason for why Sarah wasn't out by his side training. He did mention something about her getting fitted for a wedding dress or something, but I didn't really catch it. Maybe he said she was out buying new bedding?

The thing I really like about C. is that he can keep up with me. A lot of guys can't. I finally convinced Supersoulmate B. to get a bike last year. That was a disaster! I learned that some people are just meant for the sidelines. Supersoulmate B. says it's good he wasn't born with the "competitive gene"-- as he calls it -- that I have. Otherwise he wouldn't be able to focus on supporting me at races, having ice packs ready when I get home, preparing my favorite pre-race meals while I rest my legs. It's probably true that Sarah doesn't get that from C. They both have to work together when they're tired from a long workout. I know that I can just come home, give Supersoulmate B. my bike and chow down on a nourishing lunch that he's prepared while I'm taking the ice bath he has ready for me. I guess I'm lucky, but it would be nice to have a built-in training partner. (And it would be nice to come home to a washboard stomach, but that's another story!).