getting hard by getting soggy
on preparing for the first big ride of the season
Last year I believed that spending every hour on my cycling trainer, I’d find myself fit enough and prepared for ultra endurance riding.
The logic was that if I wanted to ride 100 miles off road on moderately punishing conditions, the more I trained on the bike, the better off I’d be.
This year?
I’m doing things differently.
Sure, I spend a bunch of time on my stationary bike. Instead of merely riding to improve my heart rate fitness, I bring a zip lock bag of cold mashed potatoes and I work on my eating.
Real food, rather than energy gummies is easier on the guts.
At the same time, I’m looking for carbs per hour.
So instead of working on increasing my maximum capacity, I’ve focused on eating.
Next?
I’ve been looking at gear.
Most rides, I’m either too hot or too cold.
And rain?
I hate rain. I’ve been avoiding it all winter.
And for our upcoming 100 mile Easter ride, there is always the possibility.
With a yellow advisory storm on its way, I ventured forth to test my gear.
By an hour and a half elapsed time, my jacket was fully leaked.
This is awful, I thought to myself. I’m so uncomfortable.
It was perfect.
The rain lashed through my clothes. My feet were soaked and freezing.
I was miles from home and could tell that my underpants were now a shade more dark than when I left.
After walking up and down the hills of Dartmouth, I was at the corner of Pine and Thistle Streets.
If I head down Thistle, I can be home in fifteen minutes. If I go the other way, I could add on an hour.
Life was miserable. I wanted to go home and get warm and comfortable.
And that, dear reader, is why I chose to go the long way.
As I walked I grew wetter and colder.
And with every little shift in body heat, my shoulders tensed and creeped up toward my ears.
You are not cold. You are in the cold. Resign yourself to the moment. Resign yourself to the cold.
Feeling terrible, I needed more.
In the more, I settled into the reality that I was miserable and was going to continue to be miserable for quite some time.
As I let down m shoulders, the oddest thing happened. I accepted the suck that I was striding through.
As I did this?
I felt flickers and arcs of exhilaration.
I felt so alive.
Not because I was strong.
But because I was there.
The trainer can make my heart strong.
The potatoes can stop my stomach from revolting.
And the right gear can keep me moving past mile 99.
But the real training takes place when the ride gets ugly.
When the ride gets ugly, there’s no negotiating with reality.
When the ride gets ugly at the corner of Pine and Thistle, I get to chose my direction.
Downhill to home and comfort?
Or,
Settle into the fact that the foreseeable future is going to really suck.
Drop those shoulders. Save that energy to keep moving.
You’re an animal in the rain.
Choose the long way.
Choose the rain and the pain.
That’s then the fun really starts.
Stay soggy, you fools!