All Good Things...

This is probably the last time I'm going to blog for a while. Not forever, but since I'm starting in a - hopefully busier and more fulfilling job next week, I won't have time to hang out online as much as I have. Something I think is good. Good for my sanity.

I almost called in "fuck you all" today, but saner heads prevailed. Besides, I don't generally call out from work. In all fairness, this is far from the worst job I've ever had. When I was a kid, I had a summer job that almost killed me. But why I'm mentioning my initial thought is this: as I biked home yesterday, unsure of whether I would come in today or not, I had a moment of bittersweet. I thought, "This is maybe the last time I'll bike this route, so goodbye all you shards of glass, goodbye no existent bike lanes, goodbye Sammamish High with all your incompetent drivers." Of course, all those sweet thoughts were a big fat waste, and probably used up my monthly nice quota for nothing, since I came into work today as well.

But I will be biking in this route for another week - which I forgot - since I'm doing training all next week across the way from where I am now. That is, if I survive Portland.

I guess Satan did get his weather back, because it's considerably cooler today. So, thank you, Dark Lord for taking back the weather. During a temporary insane moment, I decided it was a great idea to lug all my belongings home yesterday in a ginormous backpack during the tail end of the heatwave. That load probably added about 15 lbs and the ill fitting backpack constantly threatened to topple me over. And I'll tell you this, that biking with a backwards tilting backpack up a 16% hill doesn't work well.

Anyway, until next time, take care and get some good bike rides in. I will write about the Death Ride of Portland, though.

Sunshine Makes Me Wet

As in sweaty of course, all though... never mind. Yesterday was another scorcher and per usual I forgot to carry water, so while my legs were strong, the rest of my body was weak. Things are looking up or down weather wise in Portland. Whether it's up or down depends on your point of view. If you're a nutball like +Matt Campbell, you'll say up. I'm hoping for overcast but no rain.


Only three more days in this job. I could feel very strongly yesterday that I'm just done with this bullshit. I don't know if I told you this before, but my current place of employment caters to the rich and powerful - or at least they're powerful in their own minds. With that warped sense of self comes entitlement. Not all of our patients are like that, but the majority is. Yesterday's schedule was full of the latter. I've been tolerating this behavior before, even humored it, but yesterday I just couldn't take it. I found myself being short and not very friendly. Time to move on.


Me on Saturday

I'm meeting up with a friend on Friday after work and I really, really need it. Now that I'm done with this job I can shed some (not much) light on the comment I made about a certain police detective who turned out to be a major fuckboy. I met him by coincidence, as with most things in life. I won't go into details because it ended well for me, but let's just say he was a mindfuck of epic proportions and is probably one of the reasons some people have little to no faith in law enforcement. I seriously can't comprehend that people like him can even function in life. Much less serve and protect others. Oh, well, I'm done with that now.

I've lost a total of 16 lbs now so I'm a lean, mean biking machine. Watch out, Portland! Here I come!

It's Getting Hot In Here And Pay It Forward

Let it be said that I love sunshine. I don't care much for roasting on a beach, but I love having the sun around because it makes me happy. What I don't like is biking in it. Yesterday biking home I was reminded of how I really, really don't like biking in heat. And I definitely don't like doing hill climbs in it - which is probably why I liked the High Pass Challenge a whole lot better than Tour de Blast. HPC was a rainy and cold affair whereas TdB was a high 80s scorcher.


As far as my weight loss goes, I'm down 14 lbs now. The rapid weight loss seems to have slowed down. I'm not dieting but just cut out the heavy evening meal. I don't know if it's my imagination or not, but it seems easier and lighter to bike uphill now. I suppose it makes sense that it should feel lighter with 14 lbs less to drag uphill.

Four more days at work here, but my week seems to end on a very good note.

I have heard about this stuff happening, but never experienced it myself until today. This morning, a stranger reached in front of me with a ten dollar bill and bought my coconut water and protein bar while I stood, stunned, staring at the "out of order" sign taped to the credit card machine, my card still in my hand which was locked in the mid-air swipe position.

I had dashed to my local 7-11 before heading to work to grab a couple of things my sleep dazed head had forgotten this morning.

So, I stared blankly at the tall, 50-something man, and suddenly felt like an extra in  "Oliver Twist"… "for me, Sir?"... I whispered. The line was stacking up fast with folks with a single cup of coffee and places to go. He stuck his hand out and said, "I’m Dan. Enjoy the rest of your ride.", and off my angel went.

Now, I’m kicking myself. Had my cognitive processing skills not been completely shut down by his generosity, I would have realized that the ATM, which I have used a zillion times, was in the back of the store, and I would have gotten my own cash and paid for my own items. Nope, none of that, I just stood there, feeling the tears starting to well from this kind gesture. But the worst part is that I didn't even say "Thank you." I just stood there like a tongue tied moron.


So I'll say it here; thank you Dan, I will do this for someone else very soon, someone more deserving than myself , and if they thank me, I’ll tell them it was all you, good man. But you know, me being me, I'm a little annoyed by this gesture as well as being thankful. I prefer my mornings grumpy, and this - it completely ruined a perfectly good morning routine.

The Final Countdown

This week marks the final countdown for a couple of things; it's my last week in this job and it's the week of RondePDX. As I've said before, the latter is probably what will lead to my demise. I told +Peter Warton that I'm about 70% sure I will die. He said he's 100% sure I'll be awesome. Thank you for having more faith in me than I do at the moment, but even if we split the difference, there's a chance I will die.

Speaking of dying. A lot of our patient have died lately. Relax, there's no angel of death at work but I guess that's par for the course when dealing with an elderly population. It's just sad. Here's a piece of advice for y'all - don't break your hip when you get old. That's how it all starts.


In honor of my patients

This weekend was wonderful and it seemed to go on forever, just like when I was a kid. I actually thought Friday was Sunday. That's how long it seemed. The weather was perfect and I got a lot done. Non-bike related but even so. I feel very productive because of it.

Five days to go...

Weekend Update

I didn't go to work yesterday. Turns out giving notice is enough to trigger a monster migraine.


When I gave notice I jokingly said to my boss that this would probably send my coworker into labor - and it did. Most likely completely unrelated but nonetheless, into labor she went yesterday.

My other coworker, the one that gets away with everything, is having a love fest with my boss this morning. In other words, business as usual. On that note, I am really trying not to leave this job with a bitter after taste, because I want to leave on a positive note. The thing is - there's nothing worse (job related) to be somewhere when you're mentally done.

The more I think about it, the happier I feel about my choice. I'm getting a little excited about the change of jobs - of course I might not be alive to start my new job considering RondePDX is next weekend. I haven't really trained any for this lunacy so it is what it is. Either I'm ready for it or I'm not.

Oh, Baby, Baby, It's A Wild World

First - I didn't do the Emerald City Bike Ride. Hubby threw away the registration so between that and having to get up at 5 am to do a less than 100 mile ride, I decided against it and instead bike around the lake - twice. Just so I wouldn't kill my husband.

Second - this really isn't about biking, so if you're expecting a sweeping tale about languid biking along Lake Washington, this isn't it.


Because though biking this weekend was spectacular, that's not what made this weekend a wild one. All I can say is, "WOW!" Mind blown. This weekend was absolutely FANTASTIC. It was everything I needed and more.

I had the opportunity to spend some quality time with, let's call him Matt, this weekend. Twice. And there really aren't words to describe my sentiments properly, at least not here on this blog. So maybe that should be another blog. Because this is a blog mainly about biking and I think it ought to remain as such. Let's just say that by the end of this, I will probably have enough material to write an entire book of reviews about places to meet when one is up to no good.

So with that in mind, I think I need to go on a long, hard ride sometime soon. I'm thinking Puyallup. Or Canada. Potato - potatoe.

No Bike Friday

Well, that really isn't a thing, but this week it is. I didn't bike in today because I have things to do and people to see right after work. Any occasion is a spandex occasion, you say? Believe it or not, there are times when spandex - especially sweaty spandex - wouldn't fit the dress code. Really, you say? Try to get into a black tie event in spandex and you'll see, I say. Even in Seattle, where showing up in jeans and Hawaiian shirts seem like the logical thing to do when the invite say black tie/tux.

This I guess is a good compromise?

While I'm not attending anything of that degree of fancy, I am doing something that I hope will be fun and rewarding. Tell you about it after because I don't want to jinx it.

I kind of take back what I said about sunshine. I think I'm allergic. At least while biking. The last couple of days I've probably lost half my body weight in sweat. Maybe it's just an acclimation kind of thing and my body just has to get used to temperatures above freezing, or maybe I'm like my bike - collecting all kinds of crud during the winter months and all I need is a good cleanse.


Come Sunday, I'll probably be done biking in all the wrong places by this time. I'll take photos - even though it's against my nature.

Stealing Toilet Paper And A Tom Hardy Disappointment

I went to a Pampered Chef party last night with a friend. I didn't think I'd make it, but I'll get to that later. I got roped into this by my boss who said that she would only go if I went so I went and, of course, my boss is a no show but luckily my friend went with me.

I quickly realized that the Pampered Chef is 1: freaking expensive and 2: fucking retarded. I realized this when my friend leaned over and said "Oooh look this thing minces garlic and slices it!" My rebuttal was, "Ya, it's called a knife" Then my friend asked why I went to this in the first place and I said I really just wanted to hang out and get free wine and food.

Who needs a fucking brownie pan for individual slices?

The Pampered Chef catalog was teeming with crap that no one needs. For instance, an avocado knife? What's wrong with using just a regular butter knife? A thing that mashes ground beef, aka a spatula? Spice blends that I could make myself? I am convinced that women will buy literally anything at any price as long as it comes in pretty packaging and all their other female friends are doing it.


My friend said that the point of all these extra kitchen gadgets is to make cooking easier, but really it's overpriced stuff that you don't need. The only way that I would buy a $20 spatula would be if that spatula would buy the food, cook the meal and then have sex with me after the meal, wash the dishes and be sure to call me the next day.

The reason for my larger cloud of snarkiness than usual was due to bike troubles. Tom Hardy failed me again. I was less than two miles from home, midway up the 152nd Ave SE hill, when my rear gears just wouldn't shift. Each time I tried shifting to a lower gear, the chain shifted to a higher gear. Then the gears just stopped responding completely. The front gears worked fine.

So now I'm in the highest gear possible in a 15.7% hill. Great. So I got off my bike, walked it up to a flatter area to see if some momentum would fix the gear situation. It didn't. I got up on the sidewalk, flipped the bike on its head, then tried shifting like that. Still absolutely nothing. Well, I wasn't about to walk my bike home so I called hubby to pick me up and take me to a Volkswagen dealer - kidding. I just like saying that.

Hubby took me to Gerk's, my LBS, and I made it there 20 minutes prior to closing. This is where greasing your bike mechanic with a case of beer comes in handy. My bike mechanic saw me walk in, dropped what he was doing, and tended to my bike. Yeay!


What turned out to be the problem was inside the gear housing. One of the metal ends had come loose from the rubber tube so whatever grabs onto the wire to make shifting possible didn't have anything to grab onto. I dont' know if this makes any sense. Anyway, he fixed the problem, and Tom Hardy is back in action today.

About A Boy

You know how you have fantasies you can't share with your spouse for a multitude of reasons, so you put these neatly in a drawer, thinking that very drawer is closed for good.

And for a while you are perfectly content with that drawer being closed, because life is busy and rewarding in so many other ways.

But as time passes by and circumstances change, you can hear those fantasies starting to rattle around in a drawer you thought permanently closed. So you start wondering again. You start dreaming. You start wanting. Though as much as you find yourself wanting to explore these fantasies, you are unwilling to risk what you have built.

I met a boy. A boy that made me think of possibilities I thought weren't there anymore. A boy that's got me dreaming again and has awakened the butterflies who are currently dancing around like mad.

It's nice knowing that I can still feel this way, but whether or not I'll act on it isn't decided yet. For now it remains a tempting mirage.

Anyways, that's what's on my mind today.

Tour de Cure - Again

Hello my spandex clad friends. It's that time again that I come knocking, hat in hand, to ask you to contribute to my fundraising for diabetes.

Please, please, please, donate.

You can donate here.



Trust me, you don't want me to sing, dance, or play any instrument. Your eyes and ears will start bleeding.

However, if you give me your address or email (privately), I will send you an autographed photo of me.

Here's hoping for a happy ending!

Ps! Not that photo.

Pps! Or whatever. If you really, really want a photo of my butt with my name scribbled across it, then so be it. Who am I to judge.

Faster Than The Speed Of A Fred

Man, oh man, how the Freds are a'popping.  There are Freds everywhere! And they're kinda all over the place as well. I'm not saying I'm not a Fred/Doris, because I probably am, but I think there must be degrees of Fredness. In my neck of the woods, the degree of Fredness is determined by how much yellow you're wearing and how much reflecting fabric and blinking lights you have on your bike.


I'm really glad I'm not prone to seizures because the amount of biking disco balls I encountered today would have sent me into a seizing orbit. All these bike light festivities started to cause some amount of grump buildup in me, and I felt a growing urge to maybe push one of these ridiculous biking Teletubbies into a bush or something.

But then I saw something else, something that made the bike ride in today all worth it. As I'm approaching a red light at the intersection of 145th Pl and Lake Hills Blvd, I spy with my little eyes a man in his early 70s, dressed in a dapper pinstriped suit, nice dress shoes, and a funky wool hat under his helmet, riding an ancient green bike. He was something else.


I guess he had eyes in the back of his head because he had moved to the side as he was waiting for the light to turn, so I pulled up next to him to really admire his stylin' outfit. I said "Good morning" with a level of enthusiasm I reserve for Channing Tatum and was all smiles. After a few seconds, because I imagine sound travels slowly through all the style and his wool hat, he turns his head, gives me a once over to see if I'm worthy of a response, then turns his head (all this in slow motion), making me think I failed whatever test he was putting me through, but then, when he has turned his head facing straight ahead again, he says "Good morning, good morning, good morning. That it is." Just like that.

Shortly after the light turns green and it's time to go. I almost asked him if I could take his photo, but the moment passed and I didn't seize it. Off we both go. The next light is also red so I turn around to see if I can spot him and maybe get his photo. He is nowhere to be seen - and the thing is, there is nowhere he could have gone between the first and the second light. So now I'm thinking he might be a figment of my imagination.

Maybe all the Freds decked in yellow and their blinky lights made me hallucinate.

How Bike Chick Learned The Virtue Of Patience At Costco

The rain thing is no longer charming or funny or pleasurable. I hate the way my pants go "swoosh swoosh" and I hate wearing that portable sauna also called rain jacket.

I'm not asking for much. Not an entire month. Just a week. One week of sunshine and short sleeves.

I'm too invested to quit biking so that's not an option to change status quo, so the only option left is for the rain to stop.


Why this sudden burst of bike hating? Come to think of it, I think I like hating on stuff as much as I like biking. And Tom Hardy.

There are times like these I have to remind myself why I love biking so much or optionally just let my body go on auto. Besides I need biking these days as I have tons on my mind and a big decision to make. I have two solid offers from great employers with tons of opportunity for growth but the thing is - I know that I have it good where I am as well. I am bored - yes, but these people treat me well and that's nothing to sneeze at. I know too well what it's like to work with real assholes. A certain cardiovascular surgeon is at the top of my shit list.


Speaking of assholes. Apparently, it was "Asshole Day" at Costco (which is always, really). As I pulled into the parking lot in the pouring rain, I noticed a woman just getting into her car which was parked right up front, near the store. Great parking karma and all that I thought and pulled up near her, put on my blinkers and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited some more. I could see her rooting around inside the car. Didn't she understand that time is precious and that I wasn't getting any younger?!?!?


I got increasingly annoyed. Unless you have some weird Costco fetish and are in desperate need to rub one out to scratch that itch, there is absolutely no valid reason why you need to tinker around in your car for several minutes when other people are waiting. I didn't get the Costco fetish vibe from the woman in the car, ergo zero excuses for robbing me of my youth.

After waiting a couple of more minutes, I honked my horn. She glanced back, looked at me, then continued doing what she was doing. Just as I was getting ready to lose my shit, I saw a man heading towards the car opposite the asshole in the first car, so I pulled up directly behind the asshole car, put my blinkers on the other way and waited for the guy to move. He had a huge cart filled with Costco loot, but by then I was in no hurry anymore so I leaned back and waited.

Of course, by then, the asshole in the first car was done with whatever needed doing and was ready to leave. Well, I was in no position to move or I would lose the parking spot to my right so I ignored her small honks.

As I was sitting there in my new found meditative state, I heard tapping on my window. It was asshole lady. I rolled down my window and gave her the "can I help you?" look. "Would you mind moving your car so I can get out?" she said. I explained that since she hadn't moved for several minutes, I'd assumed she had decided to stay. She looked slightly embarrassed and mumbled something about things she had needed to do in the car before she pulled out. (Like knitting a scarf or growing a tree?) I assured her, with a smile reserve for asshole patients, that I'd be happy to move right out of her way - as soon as I could pull into the space ahead. She stared at me for a moment and then, apparently having decided she didn't want to engage in a full-on brawl in the middle of the Costco parking lot in the rain (the only other option), she retreated back to the safety of her vehicle.

And no, she wasn't driving a Prius - the new Hummer, whose only good thing is that having one saves you from going door to door telling everyone in your neighborhood that you're an asshole. The Prius has an added bonus: you don't have to announce that you're vegan. All though, being vegan doesn't come with a limitation on announcements.

Perhaps The Bunny Life Isn't So Bad...

I'm so excited over the photos I took a while back. I'm amazed at how well they turned out and how fun it actually was to take them. I'll admit I was a bit of a Nervous Nellie at the beginning, but as I said, the photographer was great! Which got me thinking - maybe I chose the wrong line of work. But then I started thinking about how most women who enter the adult entertainment industry - perhaps through the more grey area of softcore magazines, for the most part end up exploited and used.

Because there's a huge difference between my innocent little photo session and women who pose for various magazines; I chose to do this and enjoyed it. I didn't have to do it to earn a living. Not that I'm judging. If your life long dream is to pose nude or participate in adult movies and you end up with a flourishing career doing what you love, more power to you.

These are a few of the photos I had taken, but I won't be wearing a bunny tail anytime soon.








Speaking of bunnies - there are a lot of them hopping about these days. Despite their fluffy cuteness, they are lethal! I came close to crashing numerous times last time they were bouncing about.

I haven't written a lot about biking lately because there really hasn't been a lot to report. I suspect this will change once "biking season" starts for real again. So while I haven't filled my weekends with escapades on two wheels, I have filled them with other variations of it.


Four Interviews And A Photo Shoot

I've been contemplating (not my navel) leaving my current job. Not because it's particularly awful. Lord knows I've had worse. It's just that I spend most of my time with little to nothing to do. To some people, having nothing to do probably sounds wonderful, and it was for a while but not anymore. Funny observation I've made along my professional way: the more you make, the less you have to work. I make more money now than I've ever made and I do far less than I've ever had to do.

So I stuck my toe in the water and got quite a few nibbles. I have four interviews lined up, but nothing is for sure yet. I may or may not stay where I am. Grass being/seeming greener and all that. Now, the grass might very well turn out to be greener, in which case I'm outta here.

First World Problem, you say? Yes, it does sound a bit like that, doesn't it. Pissing and moaning because I get paid a lot to do nothing. However, I hate not being busy. I need go be on the go and learn things. If I'm not mentally and physically challenged - just shoot me. In the face. And don't miss.

Cleaning toilets is a life long dream of mine! I'm so [something] I could die!

It's a hard knock life... but somebody's gotta do it (not me in the photo)

Speaking of photos, a few weeks ago I had some photos taken. The kind of photos one probably shouldn't post online unless one is seeking employment in the adult film industry. Well, I might be exaggerating a little because the photos aren't vulgar or anything. They are actually quite tasteful. At least I think they are. So why did I have this done? Relax, not planning a future in the other Silicon Valley. Needed a morale boost because I've been feeling a bit flabby lately.

If you've been contemplating doing boudoir, I know a great place. This gal does wonders with posing, lighting, and just making you feel at ease. Below are some of the photos from that session. Of me. Yes. 

Besides, it's not like I'm applying for a teaching job.

Stop. Think. Be Terrified.

This isn't really what this blog is for, but I can't keep quiet anymore.



Haha! Funny!



Still hilarious!

Not so funny anymore

What's happening now in the political landscape is nothing short of terrifying. Sure, it was kinda funny in the beginning when no one thought the modern day Hitler stood a chance. Now it's not funny at all.

The Constitution limits the president's authority to make and repeal legislation, but the president and his appointees have enormous discretion over the enforcement of existing laws. Putting a leader who condones violence against the supporters of his political opponents in charge of the federal law enforcement apparatus is frightening; giving him the power to unilaterally issue pardons is terrifying.

I assumed that as we got closer to the Republican nomination, Trump would would tone down his extreme behavior in order to appeal to mainstream voters, or that he would no longer be in the race. Obviously none of the above happened. Not only is he still in the race, he is the strongest contender for a Republican nomination. And he hasn't toned down his behavior: he has done the opposite. This has truly scary implications for how he might behave were he to actually win the presidency, which shouldn't be discounted. After all, very few thought he'd get this far.



There are numerous things that should make Americans outright scared about a potential Trump presidency. It's not necessarily his narcissism and pompousness, nor his offensive and disgusting comments about women, minorities, and undocumented immigrants.

It's disturbing that someone with so little interest in the truth, who is happy to stoke xenophobic fires to advance his agenda, and who seems to have little cause other than the glorification of himself, has somehow persuaded so many that his presidency would make America great.



 

This mockery of a man should have been disqualified from even contemplating running for the highest office in this country. That being the pipe dream it is, there's something far more frightening than the reasons above that makes Trump such a danger to our country.

What scares me more than Donald Trump is the silent majority. He has empowered people to openly express hateful and bigoted behavior that in some cases has turned violent – and that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

I believe Martin Niemöller said it well:


A Blast From The Past

Remember how I was all drenched in melancholy last year around Halloween? Well, one should be careful what one wants for. He's back. Last I checked, my conjuring skills weren't very strong, so I doubt it was my wishful thinking that made him surface. Whatever it is that brought him back into my life, he's here.

So happy together...

When I say "here", I mean that we haven't actually met up yet. And I don't even know if I want to. Hell! Who am I kidding! Of course I want to meet him. I'm curious as all hell to see how he's been, what he looks like, how me smells... ugh! don't even get me started.

He always had a knack for timing, so it would only make sense that he should show up now when my marriage isn't exactly great. So there's that.

Completely unrelated, the bike ride in today was amazing. Cherry blossom galore and friendly drivers.



I can't decide whether I should be sad or glad every time I make it safely to my destination. It ought to be a given that I'm not risking death by pancake, but it's not. I guess it comes down to a risk-reward sort of thing. Kinda like this, but swap out crazy for risk and hot for health benefit.



That show was crazy good the first and second season. I stopped watching after that so I don't even know how he met their mother.

Contemplating One's Navel Only Gets A Person A Face Full Of Lint

I've been a bit of a Debbie Downer as of late, and that shit's gotta stop.

How you tell you're done contemplating your navel

This morning on my commute I was reminded of why I'm riding my bike instead of the car to work.

Paradise on earth

When I was younger I was an avid skier. Not downhill as much as cross country. I tell you, there's nothing quite like the feeling of calm and tranquility that hits you when there's nothing but you, crisp, white snow that go on for miles and miles, fresh, cool air that carries with it the smell of freedom. This morning's commute took me back to that place. The cool air that surrounded me as I was biking passed Bellevue College was almost exactly like that air from my childhood, and I was immediately calmer by about 50 degrees.

The rain has stopped for now, which makes for a much more enjoyable commute. I might even go for a ride this weekend. All though, my calendar is filling up quickly with life stuff.

I'm a thinker with a hint of an introvert and a dash of over analyzing and just a sprinkle of sarcasm. You didn't see that one coming, right? I'm a special donut. I have a tendency to think myself into a corner, which means I have to sit there until the thinking paint dries. Sometimes I only have to sit there for a short time, other times I remain in my corner for a good while. That all depends on what type of paint I used.

Seems I used the quick-drying kind this time around, and besides contemplating my navel only gets my face full of lint.

The home situation is what it is for now and thank you for valuable input. Here's a selection:




Dan

 

Chuckle

Josh

Mark

Afte I've had a good think, I feel like this scene from Love Actually, when you've said what you have to say and no matter what the outcome, you are ok with it.

The Ins And Outs Of Marriage And Priorities

Seems I'm in a lonely boat. Not lonely in the sense that I am the only one in the world who's in this situation, but lonely in the sense that the roles usually are reversed. This doesn't make it less of a problem, though.

But if there's one thing being married has taught me, it's this: you can't make other people do what you want. You may want them to exercise and eat healthy but they won't always do it. You may even want them to, say, pick up their dirty socks or stop leaving 1,000 pairs of shoes by the door, but they won't do that either (not that I'm talking about anyone in particular). For some reason, these people we get involved with tend to make their own decisions. And that's part of the problem.

Lies!

About a year ago hubby expressed a desire to get in better shape. I thought it was a good idea and wanted to be supportive so I did it too. However, we chose different means to achieve said goal - he started going to the gym, I took up road biking. I've stuck with it for the past year and, started to compete in cycling events, and have commuted to work by bike ever since. He stuck with the gym for about three days and then went back to his old habits.

He has gained about 50 pounds over the past few years.

I've been trying to get him to bike with me, and we did bike together for a while - until the weather got cold and wet.



Look, I realize that the problem might be mostly mine. I'll admit that I'm a little... obsessed with biking. I love biking so much and I think that's affecting my brain to not being able to comprehend why other people might not love biking as much as I do. When it comes to biking, my husband and I aren't exactly bike compatible. I love – and live – to ride. Hubby? Not so much.

Me

Hubby

It's not all bad. Hubby has been very supportive of my biking and hasn't complained - even once - about the bike expenses. Tom Hardy was a birthday present from hubby purchased by me, but that was for practical reasons. A bike is a very personal thing, like buying a bra, where no one size fits all.

So yeah, at first glance this sounds a bit like a First World Problem, but here's where the rubber meets the road:

I'm not proud of my feelings, but I'm just not as attracted to him physically anymore because he is overweight. I'm also not attracted to him mentally because he isn't even trying and I'm frustrated with his lack of determination. I don't know what to do. Many people say to continue to be a good example and it will rub off on him... but that's clearly not working for hubby. I don't pressure or nag him to eat right or exercise but I do try to include him and ask him if he wants to go to biking. For the time being, it's just a thought and nothing actionable.