When my husband got home from work tonight, I asked him if he ran. No, he said; he’s running tomorrow.
“Me neither. I was going to but my legs are tired.”
“Really? Why?” he asked.
Was I hearing this correctly?
“Because I ran 13 and 1/2 miles yesterday – in that heat. And, I rode 15 miles on Saturday, and I ran on Friday, and it was my fourth workout in a row.” I stopped myself – short.
There are many days when my husband doesn’t hear and remember what I say. Call it select hearing, hard of hearing, missing memory space, anything. When it comes to my running schedule, though, he really has no idea what I’m up to. Honestly, some of my Daily Mile buddies are better attuned. Wait! Hubs is a DM “friend”. Houston, we have a problem.
When it comes to my race schedule, though, he is on the game plan. Besides the odd mornings when he starts work at 6:00 a.m., my race mornings are the only times that he will get out of bed before 9:00 without a battle; he gets up, showers, eats a huge breakfast (He’s the only one I know who will eat oatmeal, toast and bacon and drink 12 oz. of o.j. in the hours before a race. Can’t he just eat oatmeal and pack a snack?), visits the bathroom again and, then, we can leave. In his own way, he is as ready for the race as I am.
Now, I’m not ranting in any way about his “pre-race” routine. In fact, I should probably be glad that he is taking the time to eat; a hungry dad is a cranky dad. But, I’ve also been up an hour earlier than he, showered, got the boys up, fed the boys, packed bags with extra clothes and snacks – you get the picture. I’m ready to run.
But the boys come to almost every race with me (this year, they’ve only missed two) and hubs loves to look after the logistical details of how to get there, where to park the car, and where to watch with the boys (with clean bathrooms nearby). Once we plan on a venue and I’ve registered, he starts on his game plan. For the past few weeks, for example, he has been “negotiating” with a friend of his to taxi us on his boat to this weekend’s Island 10K rather than drive and take the ferry. Yes, the latter would be simpler but this “makes it interesting”. He’s already looking at the Hamilton Marathon – and that’s in November.
So, thanks, honey, for looking after the little things. It really does mean a lot to me. But, geesh, if your wife runs 13 miles, couldn’t you try a little harder to remember it?