Does anyone work as hard to be mediocre as I do?
Weights twice a week. Fifty plus miles of bike commuting each week, some of it is pretty darn fast as well. Intervals. Spin class. Core work. Weight loss. Improved results? Not really.
To be fair, I haven't been a hundred percent. In fact I have so many parts of my body that are less than a hundred percent I can no longer do the math in my head. Still I am soldiering on and hoping for improvement.
Tonight I have aches in my knee (both knees now), low back, quads, shoulder blade, neck and hamstrings. I pushed hard on a couple parts of my commute home and I'm paying for it.
Each time I take a shower I discover a new scrape or bruise. I know how I got the cut on my left ankle, but how about the long scratch on my right calf? I don't so much mind having the cuts and bruises, but that fact that they keep surprising me makes me feel like I am putting on someone else's clothes and finding a tear in the shirt.
Let's hope the coming races bring some success. I could use it.
Of note is that in last weeks race I started in the second row and thanks to some wide parts of the course I was able to move up. Half way through the first lap I passed a guy and looked up and there was a monster gap to the leaders. I just kept plugging as I could hear Spinner John chasing me and he was absolutely suffering. I could hear him fighting in corners and getting tangled with riders, tress and tape. How did I know this about someone who was behind me you may ask? John talks out loud as he races and his grunts and groans are broadcast for all to enjoy (or not). Soon we caught the tail end of the 35 year olds and when we completed the first lap the announcer called out that I was leading the 45 plus group. I realized that when I had seen the big gap, I had taken over the lead.
I kept the gas on and lost a couple places on the second lap, but still felt good. Near the end of the second lap I came out of a corner and got out of the saddle to attack and when I cranked, the power spun out my rear wheel and I slid out and hit hard on my side. I got up and in the blink of an eye I lost five more places.
We were now in the thick of the 35 year olds and passing wasn't easy. My dear mom was out ringing a cowbell and cheering me on. For some reason I have been able to hear her voice cheering me through a crowd since I was a kid. My early effort caught up to me as did my sore back and bruised knee/quad combo. One of my teammates passed me and I cheered him on. The thought of putting out more effort to stay with him seemed impossible and I just hung on. I did out sprint a guy in the end and my overall place was better than last week, so I shouldn't complain, but I guess I just did.
1 comment:
"My dear mom was out ringing a cowbell and cheering me on. For some reason I have been able to hear her voice cheering me through a crowd since I was a kid."
This is not uncommon.
My dad sang in the Portland Opera Chorus for several seasons -- big guy, bass-baritone -- and my sister and I could *always* pick out his voice in rehearsals, even though he was supposed to blend in.
Sweetie comes to races and cheers me on and believe me, I can hear her voice from anywhere on the course, every time, long before I see her waving the Team Slow sign and ringing her little cowbell.
It's the aural DNA of love. And every time we experience it at races, it makes the heart rise just a little bit higher and gives us a little oomph of strength. Treasure it.
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