the tao of cycling: awake

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

be right here

I have a business partner, connie, and we have a company that's been alive for 8 years now. we have a gift line that is spiritual and heartfelt, and we ship wholesale to little stores all around the country.
last year we came up with a new concept that we've worked to build a line around, and it's taken us on an interesting journey.

the line is called Be Right Here, and it all began with a little thought I had one day when I was driving. (so did the original line, leading me to think I should get in my car and drive more often . . . )
I was following a car that had one of those white oval bumper stickers with black initials on it that represent some place the owner likes to be. it could have been NB (newport beach) or SV (sun valley) or just about anything. I was looking at that sticker, and thought, gee, wouldn't it be nice if we could all be pleased to be right here, instead of dreaming of being somewhere else.
click!
RH.
I thought, this is what we all need, a bumper sticker that stands for Right Here, to remind us that we do our best work when we are fully present wherever we are.
well, connie and I tossed this concept around for a while, and eventually came up with the logo you see above.
yes, we have a white oval bumper sticker that has BRH on it, and a handful of other items whose purpose is to remind us to be present, aware, and alive each moment we live.

and this is being presented to you today because yesterday as I was riding I found myself wishing to be in a different place. wishing for a simpler phase of life, a more stable existence, just wanting things to be different. and then I looked around at the reservoir, the mountains, the blue sky, the sunshine . . . and realized that I'd completely forgotten my very own logo.
I pulled myself back together as that lightening bolt fuzzed around me, gathering in my scattered thoughts and desires, winching back in the parts of me that wanted to disengage.

be right here.
right now.

because reality is that once we embrace what is, it shrinks down to a manageable size and at some future point, resolves itself and fades into the past or a more comfortable present.

and all it took was a lightening bolt during a bike ride to remind me to live what I preach.

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.