Friday, July 20, 2012

What I learned from a $100 T-shirt


I've typed, deleted and re-typed this latest entry multiple times as it seems I'm just looking for a crafty, creative way to voice this update from the Department of the Obvious.  Some way to express my last 8 weeks of self-sabotage in a way more entertaining venue than the simple truth - I stressed myself right out of the fun of riding and taking part in an epic ride/race that would've surely challenged me in a rewarding fashion.

Damn...it's hard to be your own worst enemy.  I apparently have such a strong mind that I can drive my body to imitate symptoms of anemia, lactic acidosis, and/or some form of myopathy or even chronic fatigue.  Wow.  I really have to find a way to use this power for good and not evil, eh?

But instead, it took suffering through 35% of an Arkansas race my gut said I should've skipped, riding through the subsequent ailments that decision brought me, using another few weeks to suffer as I forced myself to ride when I knew I shouldn't, ignoring repeated, calm, sensible Big Worm advice of "you might be over-doing it - take it easy, relax, rest, and just ride when you feel like riding", and 3 vials of blood worth of medical testing to get me where I'm at.   Where I'm at is the happy owner if the $95.75 race t-shirt pictured above, included with the registration for a really tough race I signed up for 6 months ago under the honest and appropriate motivation of purely, "I wonder if I could do that???".  A race I didn't start because my mind had pushed my body to the point it pretty much stopped working.

What did I learn?  I can remove all the fun, enjoyment and reward from anything I make too important and take too seriously.  If anyone else put as much pressure on me as I put on myself, I'd have no option but to kick that sum-bitch's ass.  But, somewhere amongst all the fun of my first Felasco, first (and incredibly rewarding & enjoyable) 3 and 6 hour races, multiple 50 - 85 mile road & gravel rides, and numerous hours on the trail I lost sight of what I was enjoying and focused only on a "why" to do it.  Damn shame.

While exchanging Facebook banter with a friend in Boulder about all the symptoms and suffering I was experiencing a few weeks back, she offered her condolences, but more importantly included, "Perhaps there is some blessing disguised behind this." Yanno? I can really hate to be told shit like that when in the midst of stirring up a good pity-pot, but I'll be damned if she wasn't right.  Once I resigned to the fact I wouldn't/couldn't race, I instead started putting my efforts into the "where, what & when" of family activities to be enjoyed during our annual vacation in Colorado.

The last dose of irony and humility came on July 14th at 9:00am.  We'd built our trip around the Silver Rush 50, had the rental house in Leadville paid for, so, might as well pick up my race t-shirt and go and watch the start.  What I learned there was so basic, so elementary, so...obvious that it truly put chills up my spine - other than maybe 50-100 truly serious, hard-core racers, these were just 1,000 or so normal folks following through on their personal "I wonder if I could do that???" mission.  The very mission I somehow lost sight of.


Other than the temporary indications of pain and hard work, all the faces that passed by me on that (brutal!) starting hill appeared to be excited about the day.  Looking forward to the challenges ahead of them.  The chance to meet, reach or exceed some individual, personal goal.  Good for them.  And good for me to see and learn from...even if I did it the hard way.

I finally let myself off the hook.  I allowed myself to get back to just having fun instead of creating pressure to attain some result.  Who knew that a simple 9 mile train ride or an exploratory "mountain climb" with my boys would be as rewarding as they were?  I was able to enjoy the entire vacation with family and friends without concern for how sore, tired, or "behind training schedule" I was.  With the right mindset (i.e., that of 3 months ago), it would've all fit nicely into our vacation plans, but there was a blessing in it all - I'd put enough pressure & expectations on this race that had I taken part it would've ruined the rest of the trip.  That t-shirt was a bargain, all things considered.


Even better?  Somewhere around day 3 or 4 of our trip, nearly 3 weeks off the bikes, the "want to" started coming back.  You know, the "want to" - the only data that Garmin cannot collect for you.  The level of "I want to ride my bicycle" that is present before, during and after a simple bicycle ride.  Finally, I was missing my bicycles.  I wanted to just go for a ride, feel the breeze, enjoy the sweat, try to out-think a turn or obstacle in the trail and simply enjoy being in the quite world of pedal power.  I got that ride this morning and it was nice.  It was normal.  My legs worked just fine, like they haven't worked in over 2 months.  My mouth even did this weird thing...it smiled.

So, with that all-too-lengthy and several times way-too-painful learning behind me, I hope to return to just being a bike rider.  Maybe a bike rider with goals, but definitely one that doesn't take himself nor pay-for-participation events too serious to miss out on the fun.

Peace on dirt.

Note:  my apologies, gratitude and love for all the friends, family, Facebookers and Earthriders that have tolerated, supported, comforted and guided me throughout the last few months.  I think the ol' Tony is back - sorry for the deviation & drama.