About Wanting More

First things first: my weekend ride.

I'm thinking that for now, being that it's the rainy season and daylight is on the brink of becoming a limited resource, I'll keep my weekend rides to 60 miles or so. Admitting defeat as far as distance goes makes me feel a bit like a wuzz but unless the forecast is drastically wrong, I'll probably just bike around the big lake again. I might throw in an extra loop down Interurban if the coyote is gone or rather if the weather permits. Probably will bring a whistle which I suspect will be a little scarier to a coyote than my tried and failed "boooo".

Possible weekend ride if it's not pouring down:



As much as I like riding in the rain, I loathe biking with wet feet and unfortunately I haven't found anything yet that prevents portable foot baths if the rain is coming down hard. Typical Seattle rain my gear and I can handle but nothing like the monsoons we've had lately.

I've been biking a lot the past few months. Some might say I'm borderline obsessed with it. So one would think that with the amount of biking I put in, restless would be the last thing I'm feeling. Yet, restless is how I feel. Not in the need for speed kind of way, but in a wanting more kind of way.

I'll issue a warning here: the below has very little to do with biking and way more to do with relationship issues. If you're expecting riveting tales about bike riding and bears, here's a more suitable post for you.

The biking has taken up a huge chunk of my weekends for a few months while hubby has been swamped with work. I bike - with or without company, he works - a lot, which he actually enjoys doing. He works weeknights and weekends. So our weeknights and weekends are generally spent apart - except for the 20 mile ride together. I've been ok with the way things are for a while because I love biking, and not having to worry about taking time away from us while at it has been great. But lately the biking has started to not be enough. I've started to feel restless - and maybe that's why I had that spout of intense pining the other day - there's nothing that can disrupt more then memories of past crazy and intense love during a period of stale crackers.

The last time we hit the intersection of conflicting wants and needs, we decided to try an open marriage, but turns out it didn't have the desired result. Of course there's lots more to it than what a few sentences can depict, and our decision came as a result of the sum of it all - not just a dissatisfied partner who wants more.

how open marriage feels like in the beginning

So before I go on, I'll take a moment to explain what this meant for us so there are no misunderstandings about confusing what I'm describing with a porno. Our open marriage had surprisingly little to do with sex and a whole lot more to do with connections on a mental level. You know when you meet someone new, there's attraction, but you don't act on it because you have a ring on your finger. But if you were single, this encounter might lead to an exchange of numbers, then a date, and down the line possibly a relationship. Of course it involved the physical aspect of a relationship, but that's what they were - relationships - not hit and runs. We were in committed relationships. Meeting and being with my two partners followed the usual patterns of any relationship; we dated, we did things together, we had meals out, we watched movies, we hiked, spent time together with friends.

So why didn't this work for us? I think the key word here is "work". As with any relationship it takes a lot of work for it to succeed and thrive. If you think one relationship is hard, try three. Time constraint was a huge complicating factor - 24 hours just isn't enough when it comes down to it, and try balancing a hubby, a boyfriend, and a girlfriend, without conflicting schedules, hurt feelings, and ultimately drama. Also, real life seldom mirrors theory. I had an idea of how this would be, and I thought it would be more compartmentalized, but the relationships you have outside your marriage don't exist in a vacuum but alongside everything else you do. I found that to be confusing.

Though, lately I've started to question the decision to end my relationships because ending things really didn't change things between hubby and me. We don't spend more time together than we used to, which leads me to think that I might have acted out of misplaced guilt. I felt guilty for not spending enough time with him but didn't actually ask him if he felt that way so I called it quits and closed the door to having other relationships. But maybe our marriage is about quality not quantity - because when we do spend time together, things are great. Oh, life, what can you do.