I awakened this morning to the sound of tree branches tapping and banging against my house, and the slap of the rope on my neighbor's flag pole hitting against the metal, over and over. my dog was lying right by the side of my bed, which was my first clue to the intensity of the weather outside. he is extremely sensitive to changes in the weather, and becomes highly agitated with high wind, rainstorms, and thunder. the clouds weren't dark enough for rain to be coming, but many of my windows were open and the wind was flying through my house, pushing aside whatever papers might not have been battened down.
so I made coffee and thought I'd read for awhile, waiting to see what the weather might do before I committed to my ride. as usual, after about half an hour with my book I was ready to go, regardless of the weather.
today was going to be a lower-intensity ride, maybe not a full "recovery ride," but nothing extremely intense after yesterday's climbing. so I started out heading north, to see what the wind would do to me.
well, it pushed me. and I pushed back. and we played this little game for the next fifteen minutes or so as I rode around my neighborhood streets, heading north then south then east then west, trying to decide what the wind was really doing before I chose my route.
it was definitely from the north. then, well, perhaps the south. and powerfully from the east, that was for sure. I decided emigration canyon was out, as the wind was definitely making eastward riding quite challenging. I decided to just head out south.
wind, the cyclist's friend and foe.
I time myself when I ride. I have PBs (Personal Best) for each canyon, and also a range of average times for myself on those same canyons. and what I've learned is that every time I ride one of those routes, the time it takes me is mainly dependent upon two things: wind, and wheaties.
wind, meaning how hard I'm fighting it or being pushed by it, and
wheaties, meaning what fuel is in my body. what I ate yesterday, what I had this morning.
and, knowing me as you probably do by now, I extrapolate this to our entire lives: our performance and thus our experience in any arena will be affected by wind and wheaties. what is pushing against us, causing us to work harder to achieve our goals, and what is helping us to sail along? and how did we fuel ourselves, what did we give to ourselves to help us through it? not all wheaties are food: some are emotional fuel.
life is full of wind, it its myriad forms.
life is also full of wheaties: we all just need to ascertain which wheaties are the right ones for our own, unique selves.