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I’m angry with Kathy. I don’t think I’m right and she’s wrong. Which is to say I totally think I’m right and she’s wrong. But that’s just because I’m angry. There’s a rational side under that emotion telling me to lighten up. That being said, in the interest of full disclosure, I thought it important to tell you, dear reader, that tandem riding is not all rainbows and unicorns.

At issue is what I consider Kathy’s self-destructive behavior. Self-destructive is, in some sense, Kathy’s middle name  . . . or one of them. She has a bunch: Katherine Marie Laura Shirek Doughtie Nolan is the full string that identifies her. So it’s hard to fit “self-destructive” in there. But what is Kathy if not someone who has always tried to stuff as much experience as she can into every corner of her life, even if it’s against her best interest?

The precipitating event was Kathy’s last-minute offer to help a friend mount a production of Steel Magnolias. What Kathy told me was the she agreed to mediate between her friend, the director, and the tech person to sort out some difficulties. Next thing I know, she’s jumped in and volunteered and is putting in long days at the theater followed by late-ish nights running the show. This, of course, risks chances of running down her already precarious health (check here for a litany of ailments she’s suffered since December); in my imagination I see her running up and down a ladder, which increases stress on her recently-sprained ankle. At a minimum, it interferes with her time on the bike. She’s already told me she plans to skip an important training ride.

All of this with less than three weeks before the big fucking ride we’ve been training for during the last five months. And what’s really frustrating to me is that she rode so well last week, bouncing back after her latest ailment (sprung ankle). I really thought we would be able to step up our game in the last couple of weeks. But instead of focusing her energy on riding, she’s decided to divert it to a stage production.

Kathy apologized. She told me theater is her addiction. Her calling, where she finds her bliss, where her heart resides. Blah, blah, blah. Sure I get that, but . . . I really thought all of those things were how she felt about AIDS/LifeCycle, and that we were going to ride it on a tandem to help her do the one thing she hasn’t been able to: ride every mile, or as someone else put it to me, EFI (every fucking inch).

Now, it’s entirely possible she feels equally strong about both. But in my mind, I go back to the wisdom of that ancient Chinese cycling manual, the Tao Te Ching, wherein it is written: “The sage lets go of that and takes hold of this.” As far as I’m concerned, she can run her health into the ground by working on every fucking theater project that comes her way forever . . . so long as it’s after June 8, 2024. Is it really so hard to wait three weeks? Isn’t that an adult skill, delayed gratification? Realizing you can’t do it all? Wouldn’t five months of health issue suggest to a 67-year-old woman that maybe she has to downshift once in a while?

I took all of these thoughts to my good friend and cycling mentor, Rick Jorgensen (who designed and built our tandem). And Rick, as he always does, talked some sense into me. He told me it’s wrong for me to find happiness on the ride by expecting Kathy to behave a certain way. That though I assumed her goal was to ride EFI, maybe that’s not the case. That what I should focus on is not ruining the ride for both her and me simply because I misunderstand her goals.

Then we went over possible scenarios. Let’s say I’m correct, he said, and Kathy is not able to finish every day on the bike. What are the possible outcomes?

• We both stop the ride at that point and get driven forward to the next camp;
• We both stop and I volunteer to work in some other capacity;
• I ride the tandem solo.

And we agreed the last option was the best. Stewing in my own funk over what I would do if Kathy had to stop riding any day, or skip an entire day, I focused on the fact that the tandem shifters are in back, limiting me to one gear. To which Rick said, “So what?” And he’s right. I rode a gorgeous fixed-gear bike (that Rick hand-built for me) for years. I rode that thing on everything from 200k (130-mile) brevets to multi-day tours. We laughed about asking a passing rider to shift for me. Talked about comments people would probably make. Joked about putting a sign on the saddle saying, “Help Wanted: Apply in Front.”

All of which helped me let go of my anger. But now we have another problem. Kathy and I need to align our goals, because it seems to me that we’ve both been working toward two different ends, which does not work well on a tandem. I just wished I’d figured that out sooner, before I put so much pressure on her to prepare for our ride.