Fat Lad Rides Again

My name is Sarah and I was a bike widow

For 9 years I have happily sat on the sidelines and watched Al ride
day and night through sun, rain, hail and snow.

I’ve smiled through gritted teeth when I’ve discovered brake fluid on
cream carpets because it was apparently too cold to work outside.

I’ve pitbitched through 24 hr events, putting up with fabulous moods
due to little sleep and lack of food, often being up for 36 hrs at
events then driving his aching body home.

I’ve watched as he has obsessively counted down the miles to
predetermined goals and achievements.

I’ve had bikes involved in every one of our holidays bar our
honeymoon, though his pride and joy did make an appearance at our wedding.

I’ve supported Al as he changed careers to retrain as a bike mechanic
and then as we set up Garage Bikes last year.

All the way through a part of me has always thought “oh its just push
bikes and its better then him being obsessed by football”

And then…

Now I find myself wanting to ride on a Sunday morning,  looking
with interest at riding gear, pointing out potential trails in Cuba to
Al, talking to customers in the shop and actually understanding what
they are discussing and even putting in the miles on a turbo
trainer to improve my fitness.

I am no longer a bike widow.

My name is Sarah and I am a mountain biker.

Mrs Fat Lad