November 14th
Yesterday I told Tim I was going to get up 30 minutes early for work and ride the trainer. I think I told him of this intention so he would tell me I won't do it. This is the motivation I need to complete the task and prove him wrong. Tim said "That is a honorable intention but I doubt it will happen."
Around 10 p.m., after my roommate and her dog have gone to bed, I tiptoe downstairs and set my road bike up on the trainer. It looks very pretty there. My cell phone alarm is set for 0450. By 0457 the next morning I am riding on the trainer. At first I am half asleep on the trainer, but as I wake up I enjoy my little spin immensely. How can one enjoy riding the trainer you ask? Well, it's sort of like indulging in a guilty pleasure. As I ride, I glance to the shelf beneath the coffee table . On the left there is a pile of magazines: Runnner's World, Triathlon, Bicycle. Hmmm, boring at 0500. I might fall back to sleep. On the right, gleaming and shining copies of my roommate's Marie Claire and Cosmo glisten. I pick of a glossy copy of Marie Clare and balance it on the handle bars of my beloved pink bike. Gwen Stefani's ""Hollaback Girl" blaires in my ipod. (In case you don't know this song, it's the loud peppy one that says this shi*'s bananna B-A-N-A-N-A-S"). For some reason, this makes my legs spin faster. If anyone saw me it would ruin my hardcore triathlete image. First go the prescription Oakleys, now it's pop music and Marie Claire. What's next, a move to Hollywood to try to make it in "the business"? Who is this girl.
It's 0530 and my secret life is over. Into the shower and off to work I go. I have extra spring in my step today. I text Tim and mention "Honored the Honorable". He texts back "What?" He so didn't think I would ride the trainer he forgot about it. I tell him I rode for 30 minutes. He says he is proud. I don't mention the Marie Claire or Gwen Stefani music. A girl's got to have a few secrets.
