Words I used to describe my husband given his actions over the weekend. Ryan is a cyclist. And cycling season kicked off last Saturday with the first endurance race of the season in Tooele. It was scheduled to be 62 miles, but due to a lovely April blizzard, they shortened it to 49. Geez, how considerate. How about cutting it from 62 miles to 2 miles? That sounds more like my kinda race on a day with no snow...anyway, he left at 6:00 a.m. Saturday morning and while he was peddling through steep mountain passes of rain, sleet, snow and wind, the children and I were eating warm, gooey cinnamon rolls and watching the snow softly fall to the ground with the Sunbeam 2000 heated mattress pad pumping out heat at full force. I don't know why someone would choose to ride in 35 degree weather in blizzard-like conditions. Actually, I should say more like 28 degrees with the wind chill you've got coming at you on the bike.
This is what were looking at from inside our toasty house and what Ryan subjected 4 hours of his life to in a seated position.
It doesn't make since to create self induced pain unless you're Lance Armstrong and you're getting paid a gazillion dollars to race. Then, I get it. But Ryan not only wasn't getting paid, he PAID to suffer. Hence the McDonald's reference. When he got home, he said the race was not fun and the last 5 miles he was sopping wet. But, he finished and that's all that matters whether he's a few fries short or not.
Here he is on a racing day a couple of years ago.
I'm sorry, but the tushy looks kinda hot in spandex.
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