Motivation - an elusive quarry

I love riding my bike. No, I mean I really love riding my bike. I still don't think you understand. I really, really love riding my bike. Here's how much I love riding my bike. I think I have mentioned before that I have bad knees. One of the reason's I started riding a bike was because my knees were so bad. There was just no way that they would stand up to the pounding of running, or even walking. But, even as low impact on the knees as cycling is, I had to have two knee surgeries a couple of years ago. Before that, I rode for three years with knees that hurt so bad, after every ride I had to ice them and I was taking Advil by the handful. Just so you know, a "handful" is slightly higher than the recommended dosage. I eventually got a prescription from my doctor for some anti-inflammatories, which I still have to take to this day. For a while after the knee surgeries, my knees felt fine, but over the last year or so, they have started getting worse, and I can tell that I will eventually have to have them worked on again. Now a smart person might want to go ahead and give up the activity that was causing him so much pain. Having never been confused with a smart person, I can assure you that I will not be giving up cycling. In a crash a few years ago, I actually cracked my tail bone. For those of you who've ever had a broken tail bone, I don't have to tell you how much it hurts. For those of you who have missed out on that fun, you'd have to go through it to understand. Suffice to say, and for the record, it hurts. I missed a grand total on 1 spin class because of it. I had to sit on an inflatable donut at work for the next month, but I made five spin classes a week. That's how much I love riding my bike.

Which makes it so puzzling why it seems that lately, I've had a really hard time getting myself motivated to go out and ride. It's been everything I can do lately to make myself get dressed and go ride. Once I'm out there, I love it. Once I'm out there, I can't remember why I didn't want to go ride. But for the life of me, I have to force myself to go. The weather's been beautiful lately. Temperatures in the mid 80's. Light winds. This is the time of year that I should be just jumping on my bike every evening and hitting the road.

And not riding my bike, especially in the evening, is a real problem for me. For some reason, if I don't go out and ride when I get home, all I do is sit at home and eat. One minute I'll be watching TV, and the next thing I know, I'm in the pantry grazing for something to eat. We might have to move because apparently, this house makes me hungry.

So what's my problem. I actually think I know what's going on. It's my wife's fault. A few months ago, she decided that we needed to buy new living room furniture. I won't bore you with the details of the furniture shopping safaris that we went on, but just let it be known, there's some sort of magical force in a furniture store that literally sucks the will to live out of me. Ever wonder why a lot of furniture stores offer free coffee? It's so husbands don't drop dead all over the store.

In addition to the leather sofa and love seat that we bought, Trish thought it would be a good idea to buy a leather recliner. I know she thought she was being nice, and kind, and considerate, and thinking of me. Truth be told, this was the worst thing she could have done. That chair might just be the ruin of my cycling. Let me explain.

When I get home from work in the evening, I will typically go on a 20 mile bike ride. I try and do this just about every weekday. As much as I enjoy having beer bottles thrown at my head from passing cars, I'll usually wait until the afternoon traffic has cleared out a little before I head out on my ride. This means that I will often have an hour or so to kill before I leave. And what do I normally do with that hour. I sit in my big leather "man chair", as I have dubbed it, and relax. And when I say relax, I mean some serious, professional type relaxing. Not the rank amateur type of relaxing that you do. Oh no, no. I've raised relaxing to an art form. I take almost as much pride on my ability to relax, as I do as my skills in offering sarcasm. So once I get nestled down in that chair, nothing short of a fire is going to get me to abandon it without a fight. And frankly, it would probably have to be a pretty big fire.

So for you wives out there, while your hearts may be in the right place, don't think your doing your husbands any favors by buying them that recliner that they've always wanted. It's a trap. A devious, soothing, nap-inducing trap. You have been warned.

Peace out.........Nearly Famous Fred