Everyone is different but me. During the opening miles of any group ride you can hear riders talking about how their kids are doing this and that so they can’t train, how work is getting in the way of the miles, and anything else that sounds like an excuse.
It is just part of it. We’re all unique in just how much our significant others, kids, and jobs will let us pursue our racing and riding passion, but regardless, we all have to make do with what we can, and most of us wish we could do more. But reaching my potential on the bike ranks somewhere behind doing the dishes, making sure the kids are bathed, and dropping off a copy of my proof of insurance to the county court to make a traffic ticket go away. Racing and training has to fit in among helping with a science fair project and watching the last half of the movie you started with your wife last week. Training has to wait until the important stuff is done, like looking for Barbie’s missing leg.
That was yesterday, anyway. To justify shaving our legs, we make do. Afterall, that’s the real reason we race bikes.
4:17am. I wake up with the diaper end of one of my kids in my face. There is much love in my heart for Kid #3, but that still isn’t how I want to wake up. The coffee machine is in my office, right next to our bedroom. It is set to start making coffee ready at 4:30am, when I get up. That is the smell that I want to help me out of bed. But just as I get #3 aimed in another direction and settle in for that last bit of sleep, I realize that I’m not getting that 13 minutes of sleep that was pampered away from me.
I turn off the alarm, brush my teeth, wash my face, and grab my cycling clothes.
4:30am. Just as the first cup of coffee is crucial to a successful morning, this is an important time of the process, as I need to make sure that I don’t wake up anyone. The deal is that if I wake them up before 5:30am, then it is my problem. Meaning, no ride.
I made way to the stairs with my cycling clothes. Getting ready happens downstairs now to minimize the noise. Granny, who lives with us, happened to be up, “Good morning,” she says. I wanted to “shush” her, but you don’t “shush” Grannies.
“Good morning,” I whisper.
“Are you going to ride?” she asked as I stood there naked holding my cycling clothes.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be back in a bit to make breakfast.”
“I hope you make muffins this morning.”
“Just for you, I will,” I sincerely replied.
Once in the garage, I grabbed the water bottles, which I forgot to fill the night before. I took them out of the “cup holders,’ as Kid #1 calls them, and went to the kitchen. I reached into the refrigerator for some lemon-lime flavored stuff and heard a thump behind the door.
4:35am. I had knocked down Kid #3 with the refrigerator door.
He stood up without fussing and asked for milk. Then he said, “I wango biride,” Not that I’m opposed to taking him in the trailer, but I...Well, yeah, I was opposed to that right then. I took him back upstairs and back to bed. He seemed content.
While getting his cup, I noticed that the dirty dishes were still in the sink from dinner. This is the result of the game where nobody does them to see if the other person will do them. I’m pretty good at that game, except that today it’s a thing that falls under “If Mama Ain’t Happy, Ain’t Nobody Happy.” Bike riding comes after dish washing in the household list of priorities. Plus there’s the whole “If Mama ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy” thing.
4:49am. With a relatively clear conscience, I go grab some miles. Today was a good day what with the bug count being pretty low and it not being a trash day.
5:54am. The last half mile of my ride was filled with “S” turns. The road isn’t all that twisty, but I could tell that the computer was going to end up at 19.8 miles, and 20.0 is much better than 19.8.
I put the bike in the garage. To keep things quiet, I used the shower outside. We don’t have neighbors so only cows were offended. Once inside, I turned on the oven to get things started for breakfast.
From there I went upstairs to get dressed and found Kid #2 having a tea party with her stuffed animals. She was then enlisted to help me with making muffins.
6:15am. Kid #2, Barbie and I made muffins for breakfast. You can’t tell anyone, because my friends and family don’t know I cook or bake, but these muffins are made from scratch and are pretty much the best muffins ever. It is way more fun to make a mess with a three year old when it doesn’t just come from a single box of mix.
6:43:am. With the muffins in the oven, it was time to turn attention to getting the kids ready for school. Kid #1’s school wasn’t to start for a week, so he pretended there wasn’t commotion going on around as Kids #2 and #3 were readied for their school. 7:05am. We get the herd moved from the upstairs pasture to the downstairs pasture. I cut up some fruit for the kids, which sounds healthy and all, but it really just buys me a few minutes while we wait for the muffins to cool, otherwise we have to spend 30 minutes of blowing on them because they will be “hot” no matter how cool they are.
7:25am. Kid #1 was filling 5 gallon buckets with water for the younger trees around here. While he was doing that, I was loading Kid #2, Barbie, Kid #3, Thomas the Tank Engine, Gordon, and this Hershey stuffed animal we brought back from a trip to Nationals this summer. We cram all of this in the Jeep each day. It is part of the routine. Sort of like airing up the tires before a ride.
8:05am. As I pulled back into the driveway (my office is at home), Kid #1 was still hauling buckets out to the trees, so I carried a few to help get him along.
8:23am. Worked.
11:35am. The pile of cycling clothes had been ranked as a climb by the Tour de France organizers, which meant it was time to throw those in the washing machine.
11:44am. Granny gets a nice smoked turkey sandwich on a bagel. I used pickle relish instead of pickles to give it some sweetness. Then we have a piece of chocolate, just to make sure.
12:08pm. To close the deal on the Downtown Denton Criterium, I have one more meeting to convince a few folks that having us there won’t be bad for business.
2:11pm. Worked. Well, I got caught up in a barrage of email where my friends make fun of each other. But I did get some work done too.
3:37pm Checked the TXBRA forum, wrote a response to some jackhole’s post, but deleted it before I could hit submit.
3:47pm Wrote a response again, because I wasn’t quite ready to let it go.
3:51pm. Deleted it again and promised myself to never look at the TXBRA forum ever again.
5:00pm. We were running late because I had to check TXBRA one last time, but I took Kid #1 to practice and picked up Kids #2 and #3, and then went back and picked up Kid #1 from practice. And we made it home just in time to see Mama pulling in the driveway from work.
6:30pm. Kissed Mama when she got out of the car.
7:15pm. Dinner. Mama trained as a chef in Italy. We like dinner. A lot.
8:00pm. Everyone under 6ft tall had to take a bath. I took a shower.
8:19pm. Everyone put on their pj’s and went downstairs to read books with Granny.
8:42pm. Kids #1 through #3 are put in bed.
8:47pm, 8:56pm, 9:02pm, 9:11pm, and 9:29pm. Kids #2 and #3 are put back in bed.
9:30pm Spend some quality time with Mama.
9:31pm Checked TXBRA again.
9:49pm Swore out loud and swore again to never check TXBRA.
9:52pm. Read something that didn’t have anything at all to do with cycling.
10:10pm. Remembered to go fill up water bottles and charge battery for the headlight.
10:18pm. Lights turned out.
10:19pm. Kiss Mama again. Fall asleep sometime after that.
1:17am. Remembered that the cycling clothes were still in the washing machine. I took them out and put them on the clothesline outside.
4:17am. I wake up with the diaper end…