the tao of cycling: dreamsleeves*

Thursday, April 5, 2012

dreamsleeves*

coleen paratore just published a novel that contains a theme of wearing your dream on your sleeve.
wow.
what would that do for us as a society?

if we could see what each other's dreams are, would we be more helpful? kinder? more willing to consider ways we could impact their journeys? would we be more apt to go out of our way, lend support, become a part of others' lives?
and would we be awed, amazed, inspired?
invigorated, rejuvenated, enlightened?

might we recognize kindred spirits?

what if we read each other's arms everyday, and started believing in everyone?

what would it be like if we each found the courage to share our dreams? it would be like wearing your heart on your sleeve, exposing yourself, daring to be real in front of friends and strangers alike.
my sleeves would state, be a published, prosperous, prolific author, and follow my path without fear, and be the mom my children need me to be. and one other thing I'm not brave enough to put out here and now--would I be brave enough to wear it on my sleeve?

I'd like to think so.

especially if everyone else was doing the same thing.

lightbulb! a custom t-shirt company, dream-sleeves, who will do this for us. you walk in, tell them your dreams, they print it on the sleeves, and off you go. (tattoos aren't practical, because dreams transmogrify, change, are met and released, become different versions of themselves.) maybe we start with one or two days a month, "sleeve days," where everyone wears their t-shirts. then maybe we get brave and make it a weekly thing.

or maybe we just use sharpies and write on our skin, freshening the marker if we haven't yet reached our dream, letting it fade as we formulate the next one . . . that's it. I have "faith" written on my knuckles with sharpie, why not write my dream on my arm?

next time you see a cyclist out on the road with sharpie up and down her left arm, that will be me.

it would be great if you'd do the same, so I won't feel so all alone.

*dreamsleeves, by coleen paratore, scholastic press, ages 10-adult. Set in coleen's hometown of troy, NY, circa 1970, it is the fictional story of a resilient girl named aislinn (irish for “dream”) o’neill who

believes if you have a dream you should wear it on your sleeve for the world to see.

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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.