Steve and I enjoy many activities in common. Concerts, Galaxy Games, even the occasional jaunt to the mall. One thing that’s been missing that I’ve always wished for is that we could find a physical activity that we both enjoy. He didn’t want to play tennis with me, we never got good at golf, and he doesn’t enjoy walking. Last weekend he decided to buy us bicycles. ”Ooh!”, I thought, “This will be fun! Rides along the beach, enjoying the waves and ocean breeze with my sweetie!” I was only partly right about the fun. He’s in this to improve our fitness. So, instead of a leisurely ride with stops along the way it’s a punishing hour of constant pedaling (yeah, I know I’m a wimp). On the last ride, I did need to stop along the way and have had a leisurely sit on a bench while he continued to bike up to Malibu and back to where I was resting. Since when did a middle-aged, non-exercising smoker have more endurance than me? Here’s the view from the bench.
I’ve got to learn to push myself a little further than my comfort zone. There are a couple of very small hills on the bike path. Most people probably don’t consider them to even be hills. I need to tell myself to keep going when I see it up ahead, rather than wanting to take a break. I wanted to be able to exercise with my husband, and now that we’re doing it, I wimp out. Tomorrow we ride again. Wish me luck and remind me that there aren’t any real hills on the bike path.
