the tao of cycling: one step closer

Monday, March 5, 2012

one step closer

some days it feels as though you're not getting anywhere.
you wake up in the same room, follow the same exercise routine, push the same button on the coffeemaker. have the same breakfast, make the same lunch, go through the familiar routine in the shower.
work, face the same issues, make similar phone calls, have conversations you've had again and again.
and all of this can happen, daily, while you're working on changing big things in your life. incremental changes that slowly--hopefully--build upon themselves, moving you ever so minutely each day to a place that will, someday, be quite different.

I have a daughter who has been working to lose weight. since last august she has lost over thirty pounds, and she's looking fantastic. she's losing it at a rate of about 5 pounds a month, which is a healthy, consistent pace, but one that is imperceptible on a daily basis.
yet where she is today is dramatically different than where she was 6 months ago.

we forget to give ourselves credit for this kind of movement as we're working our way through it. it's hard: today looks no different than yesterday. it's easy to get caught in the mind game of I'm not getting anywhere, especially when today feels no different than yesterday.

my other daughter is a twilight fan, loves the books, loves the movies. I fell in love with a song a few weeks ago that---unbeknownst to me---is featured in breaking dawn, part I. other than that, I love the song. a refrain from this song, which is called a thousand years, is this:
one step closer.

I'm hanging my hat on this these days.
I can't see or even at times feel any movement, yet I have to keep believing that I am moving,
one step forward, one step at a time, one step closer. I am going to get there, because these small, incremental steps are going to, eventually, get me somewhere.
and today, I am one step closer than I was yesterday.

I'll let you know when I can see the peak, and for now, I am going to keep reminding myself that yes, truly, I am one step closer.

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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.