You might recall that I recently signed up for a triathlon. It’s a short one this time—the bike part is only 8 miles long—but I’m going into it with almost no training under my belt. My wife signed up for the super-sprint division this time—half the distance—and she, unlike me, has never really had any specific training under her belt. So this last weekend, we went swimming (yes, she’s still much, much faster than I am), and then on Saturday, I recommended she do a brick workout. As she was headed out the door with her new bike helmet (I had to buy her a youth size helmet because she wasn’t fitting into an adult size), it occurred to me that the baby and I could come along—even though we don’t have a bike trailer. We would be her SUPPORT CAR. Heckya!
So picture, if you will, a woman riding a mountain bike with slick tires wearing a youth bike helmet followed closely by her husband in a gold Chevy with the hazard lights flashing and a baby seat in the back.
Hmmm, I wonder why those passing cyclists didn’t wave back.
Even though my wife was thoroughly embarrassed, she tolerated my enthusiasm for the duration of her four-mile excursion. And for me, it was a lot of fun. I’m starting to think it would be a really good time driving the sag wagon for someone at an event like LOTOJA or, heck, the Tour de France or RAAM or something, but it would also take a lot of time.
I might just have to talk to my co-worker (who’s doing LOTOJA in a couple of weeks) to see if he needs someone to crew for him.