She Did the Triathlon. I Found the Sardines.

Ralf’s active-rest weekend included running shoes, a carbon bicycle called Forrest, Spanish food, an impossible hotel room, and two people who enjoy life in completely different ways.

This began as a conversation about active rest.

But it became a conversation about marriage—about how two people can be very different, give each other space and still travel through life together.

My wife rests by swimming, cycling and running.

I rest with food, driving, interesting machines and perhaps a good barbecue video on YouTube.

Some people ask how we can live together.

For me, the answer is simple: very well.

A Small Holiday in Hamburg

We drove around 180 kilometres to Ratekau because my wife was taking part in a triathlon on Sunday.

But first, we went to Hamburg.

Every six months, my wife needs new running shoes. She used to buy them on the internet, but sometimes she had problems with them. Since 2022, we have gone to a special running shop where the people give very good advice.

This is not a normal shoe-shopping experience.

It is a technical operation.

My wife puts on the shoes and runs on a treadmill. They make a video. They look at how her feet move, how her legs move and what happens to her body when she runs. Then she tries another pair. And another pair.

We plan one hour for this.

For my wife, it is interesting.

For me, it is one hour of boredom.

There is nothing in the shop for me. No barbecue. No old cars. Not even a small chair with a sausage.

I think shops must improve this concept. Beside every serious shoe department, there should be a small grill station for the husbands. Then everybody can have active rest.

Fortunately, the Spanish supermarket is nearby.

This is my part of the holiday.

Revenge in the Spanish Supermarket

My wife can spend one hour trying running shoes.

I can spend one and a half hours in a Spanish supermarket.

Then she is bored.

This is balance.

I can look at special fish, frozen fish, calamari and octopus. They have the correct rice for paella. They have large paella pans, beautiful red cooking dishes and many things that you do not find in a normal supermarket.

I love it.

Into our basket went three boxes of olives with garlic, tuna, anchovies and sardines. They had sardines with lemon and sardines with chilli. For me, this is very, very good.

I am already thinking about a sardine salad with white beans and a vinaigrette made with mayonnaise, red pepper, salt, garlic and pepper. It has a lot of protein, which is good for my wife, and sardines are good for the heart.

You see, even when I am shopping for myself, I am thinking technically.

And perhaps also a little romantically.

I also found a very good rosé wine.

After shopping, we went to Bei Javi, the Spanish restaurant inside the supermarket. Javi is a special man. He walks through the restaurant like a proud cockerel.

You ask, “Can we sit here?”

He says, “No, no, no. You cannot sit here.”

Then his wife or his daughter says, “Of course. Sit here.”

Javi may believe he is the boss, but his wife runs the show. This is probably normal in many marriages.

The food is fantastic. I had fried calamari and small calamari cooked on the hot plate with olive oil, parsley and garlic.

At this moment, it felt like a holiday. Not only one weekend—more like we had been away for one week.

The Bicycle Called Forrest

Before the journey, my wife prepared herself for the triathlon.

I prepared everything else.

I emptied my work things from the car. I planned the route, booked the hotel and booked the restaurant.

Then there was the bicycle.

My wife’s carbon bicycle has a name: Forrest.

It is named after Forrest Gump: run, run, run.

Forrest does not travel on the bicycle rack. Forrest travels inside the car. At the hotel, Forrest comes into the room with us. At the event, I carry Forrest to the changing zone because my wife does not want the tyres touching the road unnecessarily.

The bicycle is very light.

You can carry it like a bag.

Forrest has a special place in my wife’s heart. I understand this. Her heart is large enough for the bicycle and for me.

The Upgrade Under the Roof

At the hotel, we discovered a problem.

The shutter in our room was broken, so we could not enter immediately. The receptionist invited us to wait in the restaurant with coffee and cake.

For me, the coffee and cake became an Erdinger Dunkel.

We waited and watched people playing golf.

Then the technician arrived and said the shutter could not be repaired. Suddenly, another room was available. Thirty minutes earlier, the hotel had been completely full. Now we received an upgrade.

Very good, I thought.

The upgraded room was directly under the roof.

It was unbelievably hot.

We opened the windows. We opened everything. We even left the bathroom light on so the ventilation would continue working.

I slept very, very badly.

My wife also slept badly, which is not ideal before a triathlon.

But on Sunday, she finished sixth out of 53 women and second in her age group.

I am so proud of what she does.

Different Ways to Rest

My wife is small, sporty and disciplined.

I am bigger, and I am not a sports man.

After completing a triathlon, she can come home, switch on the television and watch another triathlon.

At this point, I go to the bedroom and find a film.

This is not a problem.

Because we are different, we each have space.

When we are together twenty-four hours a day, we are not sitting beside each other for twenty-four hours. She goes running or swimming. I look for a new grill, a machine or an interesting barbecue event.

Then we come together again.

We both enjoy restaurants, holidays, travelling and visiting places like Crete or Gran Canaria. She likes sitting beside me when I drive. She trusts my driving so much that she can fall asleep.

That is also love.

It does not always need to be a big speech. Sometimes love is trusting somebody enough to sleep while they drive. Sometimes it is carrying a carbon bicycle called Forrest through a hotel. Sometimes it is waiting one hour in a running-shoe shop without escaping.

My wife gives me space for my interests too.

When I say, “There is a new barbecue. I need it,” she says, “Okay, buy it.”

When she needs expensive running shoes, I do not say no.

We both work hard for our money. We do not want to become the richest people in the cemetery.

We want to enjoy our life now.

Proud Beside the Course

I do not lose patience at the triathlon.

It is interesting for me.

I watch my wife and feel proud. I also talk with the people around me. Another man may be waiting for his wife with a small dog, and we begin a conversation. At these events, you can speak with everybody.

It becomes a small community.

Of course, the event could still be improved.

There were no vintage cars. There were no proper snack huts. At other sporting events, I have found camping vehicles, bicycle-repair stations, new grills and technical equipment to examine.

That gives me something to do while my wife is swimming, cycling and running.

But I also watch her.

In three weeks, she will complete half an Ironman near Flensburg. She has been training for it since February. Her discipline is incredible. When the training plan says two hours of running and three hours of cycling, then that is what she does.

No if. No but.

I can learn this discipline from her.

Perhaps she can learn from me that after the discipline, there should also be good food.

The Golf Clubs Are Complaining

While we waited at the hotel, we watched the golfers.

Their equipment was fantastic. Some had electric golf trolleys controlled by small transmitters. The trolley followed them across the course carrying everything.

I love machines like this.

But watching the golfers also reminded us of our own clubs, sitting in the attic at home.

We have not played for about one year.

I think the clubs are complaining.

After my wife completes the half Ironman, we want to visit a nine-hole golf course near Bremerhaven and play a round together.

This is perhaps our next form of active rest.

Not her sport.

Not my barbecue.

Something we can do together.

That evening, after we drove home tired, my wife said she needed a good meal. I took Chuck Eye steaks and lobster tails from the freezer, made a sauce with olive oil, garlic and salt, and put everything on the grill.

It was very, very fantastic.

She had completed her triathlon.

I had carried Forrest, survived the shoe shop, found the sardines and cooked the dinner.

Different activities.

The same weekend.

The same marriage.

And for us, this is rest.