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.

frank

The founder of Velominati and curator of The Rules, Frank was born in the Dutch colonies of Minnesota. His boundless physical talents are carefully canceled out by his equally boundless enthusiasm for drinking. Coffee, beer, wine, if it’s in a container, he will enjoy it, a lot of it. He currently lives in Seattle. He loves riding in the rain and scheduling visits with the Man with the Hammer just to be reminded of the privilege it is to feel completely depleted. He holds down a technology job the description of which no-one really understands and his interests outside of Cycling and drinking are Cycling and drinking. As devoted aesthete, the only thing more important to him than riding a bike well is looking good doing it. Frank is co-author along with the other Keepers of the Cog of the popular book, The Rules, The Way of the Cycling Disciple and also writes a monthly column for the magazine, Cyclist. He is also currently working on the first follow-up to The Rules, tentatively entitled The Hardmen. Email him directly at rouleur@velominati.com.

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  • phenomenal work Frank, there is more intellectual meat here than I can digest in a week

    this one is one of your top ten works

    Solitude here where I ride is the expectation.  You rely on yourself, your steed, because your entirely on your own.  Its quite rural here as many of the towns here only have a few hundred people, and the larger ones are only ~10k people. There are miles of sanctury land where there is zero population, where google maps cannot find where your at since there is NO cell service, where dogs look at your and wonder...what da hell?  This area of the country I live in is loaded with mostly fat ass's who would rather watch tv and feel the socialization with the flatscreen than move, moreless ride or run or whatever.  I literally have 2 friends who ride regularly, one masters level racer the other can hang with cat 1/2 boys and has a diesel engine paired with lungs.   We get out for a ride on rare occasions, and the daily grind is in 'Solitude'.  It is as you say, a paramount distinction of one's character, discipline and fortitude.  Knowing, as you roule out of bed, that your going out to get slammed by the man, and that your going to get it in repeated doses, takes guts.  Most people around here ask 'why', perhaps most logically, but the dividends are worth it and getting the privilege to ride with someone else on the rare occasions I do, I sure hate getting my ass whacked when I do, so I lone wolf it quite regularly.

    Solitude for me is quite comfortable though, I like it.  Its soul time for me, medicine for my soul healing the ailements of my day dealing with all the crap that I do, the bike is my daily dose of prozac, and when I take it I am happier and sleep soundly.  Its another dividend we yeild as cyclists.

  • @Souleur

    While I perhaps derive the most pleasure from the dynamic a group ride provides, unfortunately, due to time and logistical constraints, like you most of my rides are done on my own - beginning and ending at my garage door.  Admittedly I've never put in a 200km solo effort, let alone one in the Winter months as Frank describes, but I have certainly emptied myself on the road on rides punctuated by lifeless arms draped over the bars on the gentle decline that leads back home.  I feel the same as you regarding the solitude - its comfortable. reassuring.  Its the time I take from the day for myself and the journey that leads me from my doorstep and then back again brings me full-circle, ready to start the next day, always a little better than the day before.

  • @Chris He is also riding sans gloves there.  What a great pic.  LOVE these Hardmen photos! 

    On a mostly unrelated note, I rode yesterday for the first time ever in my life without gloves.  It was getting near sunset and I was all set to go when I realized that I had left my gloves in the basement.  I did not want to waste the time running back to the basement so I said screw it and rode.  It was actually really great.  Felt super.  Might be riding without gloves again soon.

  • Nice article Frank, but I don't think some of the comments about clothing are sensible. On long (several hours) winter rides it's VERY important to keep warm. Your body uses a lot of energy just to maintain core temperature in these conditions (I speak from experience, living in the north of Scotland), and it's easy to underestimate this. Better to be too warm than too cold - you can always take a layer off but you can't put another one on if you haven't got it with you in the first place! An extra cafe stop is a great way to replenish that extra energy!

  • @Buck Rogers

    @Chris He is also riding sans gloves there. What a great pic. LOVE these Hardmen photos!

    On a mostly unrelated note, I rode yesterday for the first time ever in my life without gloves. It was getting near sunset and I was all set to go when I realized that I had left my gloves in the basement. I did not want to waste the time running back to the basement so I said screw it and rode. It was actually really great. Felt super. Might be riding without gloves again soon.

    If you want to ride sans gloves more often, this stuff is great, it is light enough and has a really luxurious feel, also very grippy in the wet.  I think fizik microtex in white will probably clean up better but this stuff is great if you want bomber hand grip and great vibro dampening...some pro teams are using it now.

    http://www.wiggle.co.uk/lizard-skins-dsp-bar-tape/

  • Wonderful.  When asked what I want to do for vacation, my answer is always, "Take a very long ride alone."  No one believes me. The schedule dominates. My soul suffers a little bit even though it is uplifted by the family I surround myself with.  But it is true. I want to take a long ride alone more than anything.  I will probably have to put it on the calendar.  Schedule it.  Oy.

    I particularly like, ".... but by their courage to begin."  Truth.

  • @Buck Rogers

    I've forgotten my gloves occasionally, and it does feel quite nice to ride without them (until your hands get sweaty, or it's raining and your bars get slick).

    I find that the padding in gloves is what bothers me about them - my hands usually have problems going numb because of the padding, and on long rides I wind up having to switch up my hand positions constantly. I notice this isn't as much of an issue in the fall/winter/spring when I wear long-fingered wool gloves that don't have any padding. I need to try harder to locate some good mitts for next summer without padding.

  • @VeloVita

    @Souleur

    While I perhaps derive the most pleasure from the dynamic a group ride provides, unfortunately, due to time and logistical constraints, like you most of my rides are done on my own - beginning and ending at my garage door. Admittedly I've never put in a 200km solo effort, let alone one in the Winter months as Frank describes, but I have certainly emptied myself on the road on rides punctuated by lifeless arms draped over the bars on the gentle decline that leads back home. I feel the same as you regarding the solitude - its comfortable. reassuring. Its the time I take from the day for myself and the journey that leads me from my doorstep and then back again brings me full-circle, ready to start the next day, always a little better than the day before.

    my first 200k winter ride will be later this year, so there are two of us in the hunt for this, and yes...frank is the man

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