“Before cycling took over your life I used to think that cyclists were weird – y’know with the lycra, the shaved legs and all the rest,” my wife said recently.
The implication being that we’re a bunch of perverts, I presume.
“Now it just seems normal.”
Which raises two questions.
First of all, does that make my wife a pervert? A recent convert to perversion, but a pervert nonetheless. A born-again pervert, if you like.
Secondly, what does she mean by “all the rest?”
That’s a loaded phrase if ever there was one. The way she avoided eye-contact as she said it and then quickly wandered off as if she had somewhere more important (and less uncomfortable) to be is a worry.
Imagine the look on your wife’s face if you said you’d developed a keen interest in handcuff collecting. Or triathlon, perhaps.
That look flashed across her face.
Being a man who tends to overthink things (and then write about them for your reading pleasure – you’re welcome) I’ve decided that, on this occasion I’m just going to leave that one right there.
Step away from the awkward pause, put down the amateur psychoanalysis handbook, and walk away.
Bearing in mind she’s apparently very much on board with skin-tight clothes and shaved legs in a public space, whatever it is about cycling that gives her the heebie-jeebies is better left un-discussed.
Obviously, and just in case she’s been busily preparing the divorce papers, I reassured her that I have no intention of committing the ultimate taboo; I will never swap my glorious Campagnolo group-set for SRAM, no matter how many people tell me that e-TAP is the way forward.
But apart from that, it’s probably healthy to have one or two secrets in a marriage.
(Image: via maxpixel)