I Married Superman

He'll cringe that I posted this, but it's true:  I married a superman and I'm telling.

Bragging (and a little disgusted,) my mister runs half marathons for breakfast.  Literally.  He gets up in the morning, pulls on the lycra and tackles the sunrise, ten miles at a time.  Today's accumulative goal:  20 miles.  Did he make it?  Uh-huh.

I know.  I know.
(beat)
Sorry, it takes a little bit to recover from the magnitude of this daily routine.  Heck, he works out so much, I don't need to anymore.  Quite frankly, I don't want to run after all the running he's done.  And biking.  Did I mention he rides, too?  With five hours of sleep, he hops on his bike and does, oh, 30 miles.  Then run 13 in the evening.

He. is. a. maniac.  (And -ugh- does he look good.)  I'm just sayin'.  (Here's where I crescendo into an operatic strain about how lucky I am to be married to such a hunk.)

Brian has been out of the Army for 1 1/2 years.  Most folks I've known who exit the workforce to become stay-at-home parents tend to get a bit, well, soft.  Me? I got a trophy husband instead.  He's even got a neighborhood nickname (I'm not telling.)
How 'bout THEM apples, eh?

Yes, yes, this has been a bit of a brag-fest on my part, but the point is:  My husband continues to wow me.  He has always challenged my thinking of what is possible and he has helped me stretch myself further than I ever thought possible.  He continues to challenge himself and, as result, challenge me.  I am inspired and in awe of his determination, persistence and patience.  And that's just in our marriage, not to mention how he implements that into his personal goals.

His birthday is coming up.  I think I'll buy him a cape.