Zen Swimming; Mechanics and Marriage Don't Mix

Here's what I wrote to Kami about my swim workout today:

"I swam today--dare I risk saying perhaps the most perfect swim I've ever done? I was not in the mood, even thinking of skipping it, but since it's the easiest (in terms of wear and tear) of any
workout I do, I went ahead. (Besides, I need to burn some calories for the pound I gained overnight.) When I put my feet in the water it was very warm. Initially I thought, "Oh, no. This is going to be bad." But I took off on my first lap and just glided. I kept gliding. Second lap, third lap. Never felt breathless. I usually stop after ten laps to catch my breath and get a drink of water, but I kept going with the goal of doing my target 30 without stopping. I got to 30...and kept going! I thought, "Heck, if I can make it this far with so little problem, why not shoot for the whole 40, which is the race distance?" And so I did: 2000 yards in 42:13. It was very Zen--almost like being one with the water. Now in hindsight I am thinking the warm
water was a boon--perhaps it helped me relax or something. (I was supposed to run this afternoon, but it's so cold, and the swim was so good, I don't want to spoil it!) "

Seems the rest day, then, may have paid off. I won't analyze the source too much--just be grateful for the good workout.

The evening did not pass so well. I bought an X-Lap Carbon Wing system to hold me bottles on the tri bike, but looking at all the parts I thought, "I could spend hours trying to attach this and probably do it wrong. Jim could do it in half an hour." So I sucked it up and asked him if he would do it. As usual, he said he would "help me do it." "That's not what I asked you," I sighed in resignation. "I asked if you would do it. Remember Yoda: `Do, or do not. There is no try." Jedi wisdom, it seems, does not work on husbands, so I was forced to sit there for almost three hours watching him struggle with it. In a perverse reversal of habit, he, for once, did not read the instructions first. I had, but heaven forbid I should say anything. That meant wasting 45 minutes with him trying to attach it without removing the saddle. Then we went another 15 minutes when he took off saddle and seatpost, before finally removing the saddle, as recommended in the instructions. He had to struggle with one of the metal attachments which had not been well constructed. This consisted of getting some pliers and bending the part into the correct shape. (By this time I had moved away from the process and was sweeping and doing other chores.) Once he did that he was able to get it attached. I would have liked to finish the project completely, but in another typical move, he left one thing undone and put that off till tomorrow: completely attaching the bottle cages. I didn't push it. By now my head was a dull ache and I just wanted to forget all about it.

I am happy that it's done (or almost done). Truly. But this is a sore subject in our household. Jim loves mechanical tinkering and projects, except when it comes to anything I might want or need done. Then I think it becomes some sort of power play on his part. He has this moral principle of sorts where he believes everyone should be able to fix any and every part of their bicycle. I disagree. Bicyles are very complicated machines these days. It's reasonable to expect I should be able to perform basic maintenance tasks like cleaning the drivetrain, change a flat, etc., but I don't think I should need to know how to change a bottom bracket or fine-tune a derraileur. I mean, should I know how to replace the transmission on my automobile, or alter the timing on the engine? It's not an argument I'm going to win, so I just try to avoid the situation as much as possible. (It keeps Dave and Sport in business!)