If you don’t recognize the phrase, that’s not my problem.
An attribute that comes with age is the ability to
rationalize and compromise your way out of anything unpleasant. We can see this in others but we skillfully
overlook it in ourselves. We do such a
good job we don’t even realize we are doing it.
When we do find ourselves on the doctor’s scale or
looking at the eye chart or crossing the finish line and the news is bad - we
fight to marginalize the information. If
we cannot deny the truth only then are we forced to deal with it.
Such is my reality in this data rich environment. I’m getting older and I’m getting slower. It takes longer to recover and my ability to
“tough it out” has diminished. The good
news is I can get the fitness I need but it will require a significant effort. It requires consistency and structure.
This past weekend I had two rides that were both
different and the same. Saturday morning
El Chefe’ and I had a 74k slog of a ride.
I could say we started before sunrise but in fact, the sun never came
out on Saturday so in my opinion sunrise never actually happened. It rained
hard and then it rained harder.
Someone actually stopped and rolled down their window and
told us we were either crazy or studs. I
don’t know that those two things are mutually exclusive. Nevertheless it was a tough day in the
saddle.
After we finished I drove home sitting on a towel
shivering. My bun warmer has long since
died. My fingers and toes were pruned and my eyes were red and sore from being
pelted by rain for three hours. It was a feeling I had as a kid when I would
swim in our chlorine treated pool with my eyes open. Rode hard and put away wet
has new meaning. Some base miles are just
baser than others.
When I got home I washed me, my clothes and the bike in
that order.
On Sunday morning McWoodie asked who wanted to go
longer. Part of my strategy to overcome
my remarkable powers of compromise is that I have promised myself I will say
yes to every cycling addition. If there
is a question of adding a hill (say Cougar Mountain or Pizza hill) or going
farther (say “around the lake”) then my answer between now and the Dolomites is
an automatic “yes.”
On Sunday the roads were still very wet but the sky was
dry so it was a thousand times better than Saturday. The proliferation of moss and slime on the wet
roads dictated some caution on curves so that kept it from being a total throw
down. Even so, I did push it now and again and again and again. They were mostly short exertions but still
efforts that took me out of my comfort zone.
When we turned and climbed up Cougar I locked in and
found my desired balance between hurt and speed and climbed very well
considering it is January. Later, I took
some longer turns at the front to increase my workload for the day. Not epic
but not the easy way out to be sure.
As we were nearing the end of the ride and climbing to
the top of Capital Hill my legs gave me the Garmin-esque “Battery Low”
warning. For those who don’t know when
your Garmin gives you a “Battery Low” warning what it is really saying is, “I’m
shutting off in five minutes……It’s too late to do anything.” Such was the state of my legs. “Davo, you’ve only got a few more minutes of
climbing before the profanity from your legs escalates.” My ride would be over in five minutes so I
almost smiled.
El Chefe’ and Richman had also opted to join McWoddie for
the supersize Coffee and Lies and although McWoodie feels no pain, the rest of
us were whimpering. Another three had
done Cougar with us but had rushed back on different routes. We claimed the Full Monty for the day.
Like the guy who rolls into a gas station on fumes I took
a morbid satisfaction in having come so close to my early season limit with
just over a hundred miles and two thousand meters of climbing over the two day
weekend. When I stepped off my bike my
legs knew they had done something.
Don't drink and cowbell.
I’m just a girl who can’t say no. There, I said it. I’m committed.
More of the story is here !
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