the tao of cycling: capitulation

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

capitulation

I'd forgotten what this time of year is like.
our weather has been so very user-friendly lately that I've taken the ability to go ride every day for granted.
but this evening as I look at the weather forecast for the next week, I am thrown right back into the reality that today is just one single, solitary day away from october. and I should be thanking my lucky stars that I'm able to get out and ride at all, let alone ride in a sleeveless jersey and shorts.

alas, the sleeveless jersey has possibly had its last outing.

as I ponder the weather forecast and its implications for riding, other thoughts drift in and around. they have to do with work, household chores, my kids, and dreams and desires that have (gasp) nothing to do with cycling.
it's already begun, as I contemplate my day tomorrow: chances are it will be too wet to ride. I'm not ready to spend a morning in the gym, as that feels like a complete capitulation and I cannot go there yet. thus if it's too wet to ride and I'm too stubborn to go to the gym . . . why, my whole day opens up. a significant chunk of time has been freed which I can now use to, well, do one of a million different things. or three or four of the things on my to-do list, at a minimum.

however, my list of fall-rides-still-to-be-done hasn't been shrinking by much, and I am feeling the seasonal crunch. how can I possibly fit in all the rides I still want to do if it starts raining all the time? although those first snows of the season tend to cling to ground more than they do to asphalt, they still manage to snug the walls surrounding my riding windows.

the most wonderful thing about all of this, though, is that I am not in charge. I just get to respond to what happens outside. the fate of my day tomorrow lies in hands bigger, stronger, more capable, and infinitely wiser than mine; therefore, I can sleep without concern for the morrow because it will be what it will be, and I will gracefully accept the outcome.

as long as I get at least a dozen or so more beautiful riding days before october draws to a close.
okay?
please?

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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.