Soul Mates

I’d given up having a hobby to share with my husband, Hank.  We had one once. Roller Skating. It was all the rage when we got married back in 1979. The skates were our wedding gift to each other. But, our shared hobby barely lasted through our first child three years later. A few dashes about with baby Allan in the stroller and our orange fluorescent wheels were relegated to the garage to gather dust.

Raising three children took up our weekend days. But, it was just an excuse. We didn’t make the time. Occasionally, I’d spot a couple walking together hand-in-hand around the neighborhood. That couple on the public golf course nearby – the one’s sitting side-by-side in the golf cart, their matching clubs tinkling in golf bags strapped on the back as they whizzed by.

Would Hank and I ever share a hobby again?

Years later, when our children flew the nest and we were free from their activities and sports events, we went our separate ways on weekend days. I went to yoga, to run errands, shopping, etc.  Hank went to surf.  Our weekend’s were all about “See ‘ya at six!”

Then, I mentioned to Hank that SoulCycle had introduced an App.

He perked up. “An App?”

My daughter had taken me to this popular indoor cycling spot two years ago in New York. At home in LA, I began going regularly, reporting back to Hank incidences riding next to a celebrity, how fit I felt, how fun it was to break out of my suburban Pasadena comfort zone to West Hollywood. Soon, a studio in Pasadena opened. Then, the Hollywood studio opened, three minutes from my daughter’s new home and only 16 (to be exact) from our house.

But, the App was the hook that lured Hank…a tech guy; he couldn’t resist the modern way to sign up for a workout.

“Maybe I’ll try it,” he said. “Just once.”

“Really? I mean you and me together? Like on a weekend?  During the day?  You and me on a bike side-by-side?”

“Well, I guess,” he replied. Hank was reticent. He didn’t want to commit. “If the surf’s good, I’ll pass.”

I warned him: “You sure? It’s not like surfing where you are out there in nature.”

Our first class together was in Hollywood with Heather, an instructor who is challenging, but fun. I was nervous, though. What had I gotten him into? I pulled her aside and told her to be easy on him.  She nodded and laughed. “No worries.”

Once he got settled on the bike, the young woman whom we’d just met in the waiting area leaned over Hank’s bike. Her ample cleavage peeked out of an orange neon sports bra: “Good luck on your first ride, Hank!”

Then, whispered to me in her native Australian accent: “Isn’t it great to be better at something than your husband?”

“Not for long,” I laughed.

I kept looking over at Hank during class. I was worried. He was heated, red-faced, and sat down often, but he’d kept peddling. He survived the one-hour  “Survivor” class. I reached out and touched his sweaty arm.

He gave me a forced grin.

As we were leaving the studio, a television actress told him he “did great” and the Australian beauty called out: “Good job, Hank!”

What’s to hate?

Unlike my son-in-law, who likened the SoulCycle experience to “worse than being in airplane turbulence,” Hank was sold.

 “Heath, are you going to sign us up for Soul this week,” he said the following Monday…

That was back in July. Now, it’s a whole new thing on the weekend. Before Hank went with me, I’d get to class just minutes before the start. Throw on my bike shoes and hop on. With Hank, we arrive fifteen minutes before class.  It’s like our airport run on business trips – getting there way too early me – such a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants person. We stand around waiting. Makes me nuts.

Recently, Hank’s taken it to a new level.  Gone is that guy on the bike next to me charting his heart rate on the Apple Watch. He’s moved on, improved and sprinting right in time with me.

He’s got his own account. His own App, his favorite teachers, and when I go without him it’s: “Where’s Hank?”

Yes, we have become THAT couple on Sunday. Bike one & two - that couple in the golf cart I longed to be.  And, now that we were, I wasn’t so sure I liked it. I’d gotten used to having my own thing. It had changed. It became “ours” and he’d turned it into an airport run!

But, last Sunday in class… Heather called out to Hank at a difficult point. She could see he was giving it his all. “Yah, Hank!” I found myself smiling, his trying hard - sharing in something I found fun.

On the way home, we were back to the usual bickering about his driving. But, something had changed inside me. So we get there early? So his driving makes me crazy… What’s the big deal? 

I just wasn’t used to sharing a recreation with him. The time in the car (between the bickering) we engaged in mindless conversations, about little things, nonsense chatter that when you don’t spend enough time together, you don’t take part in.

It reminded me of those old days on the fluorescent wheels…

After our first "ride" together last July

Upon our early arrival last Sunday...