Saddle Sore- The Sequel

So, remember a couple weeks ago when I was talking about E.'s fresh obsession with the bikes? Yeah. Well, unlike many of his little whims, that one hasn't gone away. In fact, so inflamed was he by the bright spark of a new(ish) hobby, that he went out a bought a new mountain bike for himself.

I would like to say that I "allowed" this, but who am I kidding? I had hee-haw to say about it. He wanted it, he bought it and that was the end of it. My only comfort is that I now have a small bargaining chip to deploy when I finally take delivery of a certain handbag.

Unfortunately, getting a new bike meant that he wanted to go off and be able to ride it (surprise, surprise).

Now, one of the nice things about E. is that he likes my company, and as much as possible wants me to take part in these sorts of recreational activities, rather than disappearing off on his own for the entire weekend (although he does do that sometimes as well). On the downside, this may mean exerting a considerable amount of energy for an undertaking, er, not of my choosing.

Sunday, for example. It being a long holiday weekend, E decides this is an ideal time to test out the new wheels. Where shall we go?

"We?" I say. "As in...you and I? But I do not have mountain bike, remember?"

"That's OK," E announces, "you can ride the new one, and I will ride my old bike."

"My sweet," I reply in my best let's-be-reasonable tone of voice, "your bike will be a bit too big for me, no?"

"We'll put the seat down!" E says confidently.

Riiiiight. OK. I have grave doubts about this plan of action. That, together with the fact that, although I have done an immense of amount of road cycling, I have never tried proper off-road mountain biking before .

But one of the things that I adhere to in this relationship is that I must try, at all times, to be the best possible person I can be. So if that means donning my ridiculous old egg of a helmet (no streamlined newfangled model for me, oh no) and cycling valiantly up hills in the rain rather than staying at home with my cosy cups of tea and a book, well so be it. All in the name of love!

And so that is how I find myself doing just that- getting up early to help E stuff the bikes into the back of our tiny car. Arseing around for ages trying to get the wheel and brake clip reattached. Straining at the pedals up a steep gradiant, in the wind and lashing rain, while stylish young whippersnappers whizz past me, spraying fine gravel toward my face.

Oh, and for added entertainment value, my period, which arrived the previous morning (a mere hour or two after I carried out a rare HPT exercise) decides this is a good time to kick into high gear, singing Ave Maria in a high, slightly offkey accompaniment to crampy spasms at regular intervals.

I begin to rethink my crazy idealistic notions of love.

What we soon discover is that while I am absolutely fine- and indeed rather tenacious- about the going-up hill part, the downhill presents something of a problem. This is unfortunate, since undoubtedly, that is the whole point of going up in the first place. The path is muddy, there are big rocks jutting out at akward intervals and I don't feel as if I can control the bike, which in all honesty, really is slightly too big for me, despite having the seat put all the way down.

I descend like a little old lady- brake, brake, brake. E., who flies down at warp speed, waits for me, a slightly impatient look on his face.

"Sorry, sweetie," I gasp, skidding to a stop, my tiny feet flailing for the ground. "I don't think I am much good at this."

Does he give a charming wink and smile, or the thumbs up? Does he offer words of encouragement? Does he say to me, "Not to worry, my precious little egghead, my plucky pal, my stalwart cycling superstar sweetheart?"

No. He does not. Instead, he gives me a slightly condescending grin, and says, "Yeah, you are being kind of a wuss."

I am extremely tempted at that point to bite his leg, but he takes off at high speed before I am able to even issue a suitably crass rejoinder. Leaving me to struggle on down the remaining slope- as I vow, never again.

Sullen, in the car ride home, I wait for him to apologise. He does not. He cannot quite understand why I am so irritated with him.

"Look, it's not my fault if you suck at mountain-biking," he says after a long spell. "I thought you might enjoy it, but you don't. So we don't have to go again. I can go on my own next time."

I stare out the window.

"It's not that," I say, finally. "It's just that I didn't need yet another demonstration of what a big failure I am."

And it's true. I think what a large part of what annoys me about not getting pregnant is that I have failed, in some fundamental way, to do something that should come as naturally as rolling downhill. Other people are flying past, fearlessly, while I am skidding and braking for dear life. I tell myself it's not my fault that our path is rockier and bumpier than could have been expected. That I am doing the best I can.

But sometimes I wish for something as simple as a smooth novice's path. For a gentle pace, sunshine slanting through tall pines. For my feet to quickly and easily touch the ground.

Comments

[Suz]

That's how it feels. I'm so sorry that you had to get the reminder and that E didn't understand. But George doesn't always either, that's part of the reason why I blog. Here's hoping that next weekend finds you doing something that comes easy.

[Sandy]

Wow. This took my breath away when you made the connection between the downward hill ride and infertility. I hate so much to think that my inability to bear a child to term defines who I am, but if I'm being as honest as you were in this post, it does. Just once, I would like for everything to be simple for all of us. Just once.

[Amyesq]

It took me one time to realize I, too, sucked at mountain biking. I'm not good at it, I hate it, and so forget it. My bike now gathers dust in the garage while Tim's gets good use most every weekend. It is OK. You can find something else that you like to to do. Like shopping. And speaking of shopping, the handbag? You DIDN'T - did you?

[Susan/holdingpattern]

I think it not fair of E. to pronounce you a "wuss" or say you "suck at mountain biking." He took you down a trail that is clearly not for beginners and not usually muddy, all on a bike that is much too large. It is not easy to control a bike when you're body is leaning too far forward, in an effort just to reach the handlebars! He should try it if he doesn't believe me. Having the right size bike makes a world of difference - believe me, I know. You have NOT failed here. You were an awesome sport for even trying in these most unsavory of circumstances.

I like your relationship principle of "trying at all times, to be the best possible person you can be." I think I will adopt it myself. It must be hard to live up to during times like this, but I think you have the right idea. Your husband is lucky to have such a trooper for a wife!

[cda]

Dear Mare,

Wow. This post really touched me. I love your writing and everything you've ever shared, but this one really hit home. Thank you. Lately I've been aware of that feeling, just under the surface, and thus your post hits a nerve but also helps me to realize that I'm not alone here--so many of us are being "good sports" about the plethora of things we're trying out for the first time (or 99th time) like shots in the thigh or awkward procedures or crack-of-dawn blood draws and ultrasounds. I feel my heart going out to you and all of us. Thank you again.

Longtime reader--not sure whether I've posted before

[Lindy]

Many hugs to you Mare. You are indeed a good sport. And so sorry about your period showing up after an HPT. That's just overkill.

[Mellie]

You know, none of us should feel like failures because we can't mountain bike down a hill or because we're unable to have a baby. Failure is a rotten word - but I know exactly what you mean. When I got my bfn yesterday, that feeling sure crept in. And the worst is when we worry about failing others - in addition to letting ourselves down.

Your post is great. And you are too, mountain biker or not.

[Heidi]

I just found out that my brother's wife is pregnant...after their first month of trying. And me? Well, I am still teetering downhill on my own oversized bike, clutching the handlebars and hoping I'll make it...even after getting on a totally new trail. I get your metaphor all too well.

[Lala]

Why is it that we always see such things in terms of failure? I suffer the same way. Right now I'm a failure at getting pregnant, running a business, getting a job, paying for anything and parenting the kid I do have. Oh yeah, failure at housework too. WHY Mare? Why are we seeing ourselves this way?
You made it down the hill, is a lack of finesse failure? I say not. How do we fix this?

[Meg]

A wuss would have got off the bike and walked it down the hill. Fantastic post and i can relate to the feeling of failure, that's how I think when I keep failing to get pregnant and everyone else seems to do it so easily and effortlessly.

[reprogirl]

You rock.

I feel this way about:
(1) (big one) lack of boyfriend, husband, any kind of success in that area
(2) money
(3) house. Now everyone has started buying houses, it's one more thing that the rest of the world seems to take in stride as naturally as sailing down a hill on wheels. But not me. I might be able to buy a small rat-infested condo in about 2037.
(4) looks
(5) parents. Having parents seems to come so easily to everyone else! Why am I so bad at it?
oh yeah and (6) baby baby baby baby.

I am, however, extremely good at
um
I can't think of anything
I'm very good at law school exams. Not a very useful skill in day-to-day life though.

Rationally, I know that none of this stuff makes me a failure or other people more successful or deserving. They are just luckier. I second what a lot of other people said. The real success, the real honour, is in the grace with which you persevere through challenges most people are lucky enough not to have to even realize exist.

[Melissa]

Yeah, I'm not too skilled at the mountain biking either. We went on a bike trip down a mountain in Maui on our honeymoon. I braked my way down for the whole first half--and it was on an actual road! You are not alone.

[ManhattanAnne]

Lovely post. I identify completely with your feelings. But. I also think it's important to try to remind yourself that this is something that's happening TO you, not something you yourself are doing or failing to do.

[Anna H.]

I so hear you on this, Mare. When we see everything through the prism of IF, life begins to feel like one failure after another.

But there you are on that too-big bike, making it up and down that rain-swept hill -- fighting adversity, loving E, being present the whole time...

Your strength inspires me.

xxoo

[Helen]

This made me laugh! Don't take any notice of E, thats just blokes for you. I got to really love mountain biking and I'm rubbish at the steep downhill bits. Its just great to be outside in the fresh air, see the changing seasons of the countyside, and enjoying a packed lunch! I'm as fast as my partner uphill but there was a time when I was so frightened of a downhill gradient I braked and had to stop. I couldn't get back on the bike - with the gradient of the saddle I would have injured myself! My partner was at the bottom of the hill making clucking chicken noises!

Its good to do something together and take your mind off the rest of the crap. Don't take it seriously, its just a bit of fun.

Good luck with the IVF, keep your pecker up, and wish for a bit of sunshine for your mountain biking (summer doesn't seem to have started yet in UK!).

[Jenn]

Oh I totally, totally feel for you. Your husband sounds just like mine. We go to Colorado together every year, and instead of spending our time hiking on fun non-scary trails, I get stuck suffering all the way up these 14,000 ft mountains. And we can't just jog, he has to always train for a marathon or do something that makes me feel like such an underachiever. It IS hard with everything else going on to never feel good enough!
Great post!