I am constantly reminded that I am not in control of the weather. Earlier in the week the temperature was well into the mid 60’s. This morning it snowed. It seems that as soon as I get into a routine with riding and training for RAGBRAI, the weather has an identity crisis. I looked out the window this crisp, spring morning, and tried to think of a way to make an analogy out of this atmospheric change, and I came up with this. Weather is like a battle and we are the deer. Allow me to clarify. Think of the warm and cold weather like two opposing factions of a mighty battle, the warm holds it’s ground in the south while the cold finds refuge in the north, and Iowa is the no-man’s land. Each storm is a battle between these mighty foes, at times the warm holds the “front” line, while at other times the cold gains the high ground. The battles that result from these engagements can become quite fierce, with the blinding flash of the cannon that can be seen for miles and the resulting window-rattling boom that rolls over the prairie like a tsunami. Their bullets flood our rivers and sometimes dent our cars, and the smoke from their guns fills our skies to the point that the sun ceases to shine. We are at the mercy of the these two mighty forces and there is nothing we can do when the battle ensues but take cover. But when the battle is over, we dare to venture forth from our shelter to graze and find sustenance while we can, and we become oblivious when the battle does not rage. But when we hear the boom and see the flash, to cover we go, like little deer hiding in the woods. So all we can do is hope that the major engagements don’t come our way, but in the meantime; the battle continues.
Wind. It’s a love/hate relationship. April 6, 2011
During my hours in the saddle over the past few weeks, riding through cold and heat, rain and shine, one thing has remained a constant; wind. The factor of the wind is a complex one. At times it is utterly demoralizing, such as when you push for all your worth to get to the top of the hill, with the dream of coasting down the other side, only to realize that the wind is so strong that you have to peddle almost as hard just to go down-hill. Yet at other times the wind can be your best friend. After miles of battling with this bitter foe, you’re able to turn around for the return trip, and the wind suddenly becomes your best friend, pushing you along the road like a parent pushes a child on the swing. Through all my battles with this eternal force, I have begun to learn to view the wind from a different perspective. I, like most people, used to view the wind as something that would either make-or-break the ride, but now I have tried to change my view. Wind, when it would seem to pit it’s will against my, can be viewed as an extra component to make me stronger. The wind definitely makes the ride harder, but that in turn makes me more able to fight it. So in reality, the harder the wind blows, the stronger I become. The wind is really helping me train, its like a coach who’s in the chase car next to me, pushing me to go harder. I think this idea can also be applied to life in general. When we are pushed down by difficulties, we are tempted to just give up, when in fact we should push harder. To adopt the old adage, “what doesn’t kill me only makes me stronger”. I also find comfort and motivation in a quote from Lance Armstrong, “Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.” So I encourage you to go forth and fight the good fight. I also encourage you to comment or share on a moment in your live that you have gone the distance and persevered, against the wind.
I’m the next Tour de France Champion, in my head anyway. March 11, 2011
It seems like spring has finally arrived, and for good this time. So without hesitation I jumped on my bike as soon as I could, and headed out into the wind-swept farmland. I’ve tried to explain, in-depth and to my best ability, in previous posts the feeling of riding my bike after too much time away from the saddle. I will spare you the lengthy explanation of the flood of emotions that are coursing through my system after a ride, and try to write from a more philosophical point-of-view. Today it was rather windy out on the road, and I had set myself a goal to cover a route that took me straight into the wind and up a sizable hill (for Iowa anyway). Even though there were plenty of opportunities for me to turn around before the hill, and enjoy the nice tail-wind that awaited, I pushed on toward the top. In my mind I weighed the options of enjoying the tail-wind and turning around right away, which would be easier, but result in less satisfaction; or pushing on up the hill to achieve my goal and be rewarded with an even nicer tail-wind + down-hill. I did reach the top of the hill and was glad that I stuck it out to receive a larger reward. I think this scenario may be easily applied to life in general. Sometimes, in life, we think that if we just give up now then everything will be better, and it might be, for the short-term. If you hate your job you might want to quit and file unemployment, you’ll probably get paid more from the government (or tax payers), but what if you can’t find another job. If you quit while you’re down, it’s even harder to get back up than if you hadn’t quit in the first place. Sticking with it is usually harder at first, but has the biggest payoff. If you keep working hard at the job you hate, someday you might end up running the company, and making enough money to send your kids through college or take that trip to Europe you always wanted. Charging up the hill is never easy, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from cycling, it’s that mental tenacity is 99 percent of getting across the finish line. If you think you can get there, then you will. When I was standing on the pedals, pushing up that hill, my body was telling me no, but in my mind, I was the next Tour de France Champion.
BTW: The tail-wind was absolutely fantastic!
Riding with the Horses March 1, 2011
Tonight I went for my third ride of the year, despite the mercury leveling out around 40. At this time of year it seems as though winter’s grasp is finally being loosened, as the warming rays of that wonderful ball in the sky cut through the frost and snow to reveal a terrain long forgotten. Thus was the feeling as I made my way out 9 miles on one of Iowa’s long, lonely roads. I was grateful for the brisk tail-wind that I was rewarded with on my return voyage, and as I glided down the last hill into town, something really cool happened. I was coasting along when I noticed a number of horses just ahead off to my right, it seemed as though they were returning to the barn after a good evening stroll though the corn field. I whistled as I approached them, as I often do when passing interesting wildlife or animals, and a couple of them turned their heads to ponder at this strange sight, a metal cowboy as Joe Kurmaskie would say. Then one of the horses toward the back of the herd broke out into a full gallop, running along the fence row, as if to escort me home. It’s night black mane flapping in the wind like the standard of a cavalry charge, it’s hooves throwing mud high into the air, it was running with me, not because it was spurred on by a skillful rider, but because it wanted to. Some of you might think I’m getting all emotional over nothing, but the feeling of connection that was exchanged in that moment was, for lack of a better word, cool.
Spring, where art thou? February 10, 2011
I love Iowa, it is a great state to grow-up, live, and bicycle in. But for all this state has to offer to the avid cyclist, there is one thing that is a black stain to this bicycle haven. It can be summed up in one word; Winter. No matter how hard you train during the summer months, winter always comes around and puts everything on pause, and eventually rewind. It takes a truly brave, dedicated cyclist to don the winter gear; balaclava, insulated gloves, jacket, tights, studded tires, etc. It takes a special breed to charge forth into the frozen tundra and continue his fight against the elements (Christmas dinner). Only a true cyclist would strive onward through these months of bitter cold and freezing winds. Unfortunately, I’m not one of them. I’ve tried my best to stay faithful to my trainer, but these last few weeks I’ve found staring at the same chunk of drywall for an hour every day less exhilaration and more boredom turned to torture. With at least another month before things start to thaw out, my only hope is that I can keep from going crazy with desire to ride my bike with both wheels on an actual road. The trustworthy weatherman told me it’s supposed to get into the lower 30’s this weekend, maybe I’ll satisfy my craving for open tarmac and take the old Lotus for the 2011 maiden voyage. Then again the roads might be too icy, or the cold might make my tires brittle, or my brake cables could freeze and send me flying into the ditch. hmm, maybe I’ll just stick to dreaming about it. Spring, where art thou?