the tao of cycling: fantasies and fibulae

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

fantasies and fibulae

I have two fantasies.
One, that I am a runner.
Two, that I am a back-up singer for a band.

I can sing, and maybe with vocal training I could be good enough to be a back-up singer . . . someday . . . you never know.
Now, running. Well, this may just not happen. I ran for a while my sophomore year in college. I remember thinking a mile is a really long distance. I also remember my knees not being terribly enamored of the process.
Here I am quite a bit further down the road, with those same knees. Last year I spent many weeks icing one knee or the other, and I should probably be doing the same now: my knees are complaining a bit about what I've been making them do.
I do not want an injury. Perhaps it's not my biggest fear, but I don't want to imagine my life without cycling. And that's where thought of an injury takes me.
An acquaintance of mine is a runner: she currently has her foot in a cast because she was hit by a car. Hit by a car is terrible, but not being able to run is worse.
Most of us try to avoid injury, but sometimes it happens anyway. A car hits us, or perhaps we're at football practice, being tackled by a teammate during a drill, and we fall, landing akwardly on our left ankle. Then we might get up, limping, realizing something isn't right, and go see the trainer. Who gives ice, asks questions, tapes it, makes us stand and try to walk, sees the failure. More ice, suggestions of an x-ray . . .
Yes, my 15-year-old son fractured his left fibula yesterday morning, during football practice. Argh. Small break, clean, no surgery. Phew.
But the piece of it I really love is this: yesterday was the first day of "two-a-day" week, the toughest week of football practice all year. The night before, my son was talking with God, saying, please help me ~ I'm going to need some help getting through this week.
Hmmm.
God knows I've never really wanted my son to play football . . .
and I know He's always listening . . .
I believe the saying is, "God works in mysterious ways."
Now, about that back-up singer thing ~
do re mi fa so la ti do

No comments:

Post a Comment

the Male Ego

The other day I was coming down a canyon in my drop bars (two years ago I would have said, 'what's a drop bar?'), working hard, when I came up on two guys who were also heading downhill but at a more leisurely pace. I passed them, said hello as I did so, and pulled back into the bike lane. a few minutes later they went flying past me, faces looking dead ahead, not a single bit of acknowledgment that I even existed on this planet let alone was involved in and enjoying the same sport they were.
I have to attribute this to the male ego. what else can it be? now I know we all have egos, myself included. and mine even shows its ridiculous little head once in a while, or perhaps more often. but the difference between mine and say, those of certain men on bicycles, is that I KNOW mine exists and I can LAUGH at mine. I know my ego was quite excited to pass those guys, and I could also smile because I knew if the men had really been working like I was, they would have kicked my butt down the hill.
I think I pissed them off.
and I'm sure I will be sharing with you much more of my thoughts about the male ego . . .

a little history

I was married, and I had a mountain bike which I rarely rode. we separated, I moved out, and four months later someone stole my bike. the next spring, 2005, I bought myself a new mountain bike. I rode occasionally, and in april 2006 I rode in my first century, the Cactus Hugger in St. George, Utah. I made it 54 miles on that mountain bike, and it took me about 6 hours. I think that included the rest stops where I prayed that someone would steal my bike again . . .
in june 2006 I started riding my mountain bike five mornings a week, a 45-55 minute loop that was intended to be all about exercise. and what I found was that I loved the quiet, peaceful morning full of bird chatter and barely breaking sunrises. by that fall I was hooked, and began considering the purchase of a road bike. I rode up emigration canyon for the first time that Labor Day of 2006, panting and plowing along on my trusty (heavy) bike, and a month later I was the proud owner of my own road bike: I had become a two-bike girl!
a 17-week-long "power camp" over the winter and a handful of new friends kept bicycling front and center in my life, and when spring of 2007 rolled around I was ready to hit the pavement. I rode my first century the end of april, when I again went to St. George and completed that Cactus Hugger. it took me about 7 hours, but this time I rode the entire 100 miles with about 9300 feet of vertical gain. woo hoo!
I started riding canyons around our area, emigration and millcreek, city creek, big cottonwood, little mountain and big mountain, and once--yes, only once--little cottonwood.
then in september of 2007, I rode from Logan, Utah, to Jackson, Wyoming, in the slightly infamous LOTOJA race. I rode, I did not race. and I completed the thing, crediting my good training buddies, the incredibly perfect weather, my support team, and an amazing convergence of all things positive in the universe.
I put in about 3500 miles last season, and as of today, july 19, 2008, I have about 1700 in, adding to it every day.
I have again signed on to ride the LOTOJA race, and my goal is to have just somewhere near as great a ride as I did last year. oh, and to have someone fun to talk with along the way as I got incredibly bored last year . . . star valley is still a nightmare scene in my biking memories . . .
and here is a picture of the machine that has helped me reclaim my life.