As Michael enjoyed his early days of riding solo with the guys, I did my own thing on the home front, waiting for his brief recap at the end of his adventures. His exhaustion and non-detail driven right brain only allowed for summarized recaps. The details I required were often left untold which left me feeling even more on the outside.
Though I was happy he was out having a great time, I was clearly not part of his new cycling experience. He was bonding with the guys in significant ways and I felt left behind to simply observe his experience. I was seeing first-hand the bonding effect that sweating together toward a shared goal has on our relationships.
Sunday church conversations after a Saturday ride were loaded with the after-adrenalin of their bonding experiences. Tanned knees and sore muscles added more glue to their stories and anticipation and planning for the next ride seemed to be part of each conversation.
As the guys shared, I stood to the side and listened, desperately wanting some of what they were experiencing. I remember wanting to hold Michael’s hand during those discussions so as to feel more a part of them, as though the energy (connection) could/would transfer from him to me. I knew what they were experiencing was what I wanted and needed with my man. I tried harder to be part of it, seeking more details to become one with the adventure. At the same time I had a whole lot of life experiences telling me I needed to give him space, let him do his own thing, let him have his own life and activities. I felt insecure and disconnected from Michael and knew I needed to stuff those “codependent” feelings for fear of appearing too needy.
When Michael wasn’t riding his new shiny bike with the boys, he and I enjoyed some great tandem adventures on his Suzuki road-legal dirt bike. Michael was somewhat surprised (and ecstatic) that his gal would hop on the back of his thrill-inducing machine. I of course was still at the point of doing almost anything to capture, connect with and be close to my handsome prince. Any fear I may have felt was stuffed down deep enough so as not to be evident to Michael. I WOULD be part of this adventure, even if it killed me.
I hopped on the back, tightly wrapping my arms around my man, and squealed with genuine excitement as we headed up toward the mountains. When he went a little too fast, I bit my tongue. When he laid ‘er over to take a tight corner, I dug my nails more deeply into his jacket.
Funny though, I never complained, I never said stop. I was having the time of my life “holding on for dear life”. It’s interesting what physical closeness does for me. Michael and I literally absorbed each others’ exhilaration, fear and excitement as we barreled up the mountain roads to our destination.
We were on a shared mission, enjoying the journey as a team…sights, sounds and all the emotion that went along with it. I was part of the adventure and loved it.
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