The task spreads out before me like molasses poured onto a tabletop, indulging in its viscous immensity. Its growing breadth makes it a kind of enigma, the sort distinguished by an elusive end and therefor an intangible beginning. It occurs to me, at this moment, that the difference between those who achieve and those who stagnate is not measured by their greatness, but by their courage to begin. There is a boldness in embarking on that to which the end is unknown, to trust in your ability to navigate a path along which the way can be felt more than it can be seen.
In life, our path is fractured by the paths of those in our social and professional proximity. In training, we are simply a product of our discipline and will. In a world full of change and flux, training stands out as a beautifully simple thing. Time in the saddle goes in one end, and progress comes out the other. The magnitude of the change we see as a result is directly proportional to our commitment to a goal; there is nowhere to to seek answers to our failures but inside ourselves.
The most sacred act in Cycling is, for me, the day-long solo training ride, especially in Winter. On these days of 200 or more kilometers, I rise with the sun still lingering behind the Cascades to the East. There is a chill in the air even inside the house as I shake off sleep and prepare for a ride book-ended by the twin fires of sunrise and sunset. I wait patiently for the streets to be lit well enough to allow my safe passage; perhaps I’ll have another espresso while I wait for the sun to laze above the horizon.
Setting out, my heart will be heavy with dread knowing the ribbon of kilometers, hills and climbs that lies ahead. In Winter, the effect is heightened by the gray clouds in the sky and the knowledge that rain and possibly snow will accompany me. Before I even begin, my mind casts ahead to the warm shower and hearty meal which will greet me at the end of this long day. Yet, the only way to arrive is by loading the pedals at the outset and getting to the business of turning them endlessly until I return to the house.
My usual long training route consists of chaining together my daily training loops. While familiarity with the route serves to comfort me, the conclusion of each loop carries me by my home – each time I find myself tempted to escape into the warm confines where my family, a shower, and a meal awaits. Yet, with each passing of the house, my resolve is energized, I continue. I continue with only the thoughts in my head, my discipline, and the cold and wet to keep me company. When I finally return home, my spirits fill with a sense of accomplishment.
These rides help me find form, certainly, but they serve a more fundamental purpose that echoes in my personal and professional life. They serve to remind that a large task is an aggregate of smaller, more simple tasks and that we need only the courage to begin. Just as a long ride is accomplished by the simple act of turning the pedals, we achieve our goals in life by starting today to incrementally move towards them.
I am reminded through the solitude of the ride that simply beginning is the most critical element to finishing; fail to do that, and you will never have the opportunity to finish. Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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@Souleur
Don't get me wrong, I loves me some town line sprints, but the Cash Del group ride-turned-race is just a challenge to Training Properly and welcoming in noobs.
@unversio
Fair enough, but you're still a nutter, as defined by me - another nutter. So after you carry the one and divide be V, it all winds up being about neutral.
@Nathan I agree with this - I have three pairs of the Giro Zeros and love them.
I ride alone. I can dig into my inner self far deeper when I'm 100 or 200k from home and there's only one way to get back. We live accosted by a barrage of media, sound, people, etc. When I ride, the phone is off, merely there for an emergency, and I engulf myself in being one with my world. I have never understood why one would wear headphones for music or an earpiece to talk. Riding time is time away from the world. If your rides are such that you need music for stimulation, well, I find that sad.
I do really like solo ride, especially when I'm on holiday, when you don't know the route very well and because of that I feel a slight sense of uneasiness. I feel that especially when I am in the Dolomites mountains. Those solo ride are made in a class of their own, unique.
This method of crafting a long route is foreign to me. I know many people simply do long rides by linking their shorter routes, but don't you ride those routes enough? Part of my love of the long ride is the exploration. If I'm going out for 200k, that means I can ride a loop that goes 100k from home. Isn't that part of the beauty of cycling? The level of commitment is admittedly higher, in that you have to get home, and the only way home is to crank out that 100k, or whatever distance it may be.
Being in the flatlands of southeast Michigan, wherever I ride is essentially the same. Some areas are a bit lumpier, but otherwise it's trees and farms. Thus, I make every route a loop and try to get out onto new roads on occasion. When I head back to mountainous country, then the routes change because the long climbs place more constraints on where you ride.
A vast number of people out here ride the exact same three or four routes over and over again. I always find that baffling. How do all of you go about deciding your routes? Geography plays a huge role obviously, perhaps that's why you do a meta-route for your long rides Frank?
@Collin
For me it really depends on how I'm feeling that day, and how I feel about forcing myself into the inevitable "death march" home depending on how hard/long the ride was. The really *good* routes here that take me a ways from home all seem to involve at least 4-5 hours on the bike, so you need to have the time free during the day to put that much time into the ride.
On days where I'm not feeling 100%, I'm more likely to string together a route from my shorter rides, that way I'm never more than 20-30 mins away from home when I feel "done". This is especially true in winter when I'm wet or cold and just want to strip off the soaked kit and warm up.
I also get into the rut of riding the same routes often because living in a city, they just happen to be the best routes I've found for cycling in the immediate area, and they fit in well if I'm strapped for time and don't have 5 hours for a ride that day.
@asyax
Funny you should mention that, tomorrow's the birthday & as luck would have it Strava have put a challenge together with BMC to cover at least 128km (79mi) in a single ride over the weekend. Looks like Saturday morning will involve a solo recon of the Adelaide Cogal route as a birthday present to myself.
@Nate Thanx! I'll need one of these eventually.
@frank
This shits me like you wouldn't believe, we have a Wednesday morning group ride that meets at 6 at the bottom of one of the more popular climbs just outside Adelaide & then is supposed to be a 20-25 minute spin (most of our pr's are in the mid to low teens) up the hill that's designed to welcome newer riders to riding within groups.
Unfortunately, without fail in the last few weeks, there's a bunch of riders who'll join up with us & then attack from the gun...which just means they need to wait around longer at the top. Stoopid