Yvon Chounard may not be Homer but he is a worthy modern day wise man, he admonished, don’t be a sports nazi. His meaning was, don’t do one sport to the exclusion of all others. It’s tempting not to pursue other sports when cycling demands so much time and leaves one with a body that is barely useful for anything else, but that would be too easy.
VLVV, Gianni
Admittedly, the concept of worshipping multiple deities has lost its popular following in the last few millennia. But we must reconcile theological doctrine with reality and bury the schisms that have caused sectarian strife for so long. The month of October is the perfect time to revisit the sacred teachings.
At first glance, you might call me an infidel upon learning that today, instead of devoting my whole day to worshipping The Bike, I plan to make equally sacred offerings to The Mountain. Indeed, the pile of bespoke cycling gear designated for today’s ride now has to share the same trunk space with ropes, cams, carabiners, and other studly accoutrements of the climbing craft. Upon learning this, many of you likely will condemn me a Rule #4 violator and ban me from La Vie Velominatus for life. But I beg you to hear my case before casting judgment.
In ancient Athens, for example, the good citizens understood that it was prudent to worship many gods; though the gods were fickle and jealous, they could bestow upon you great benefits. What really mattered was religious experience, spirituality, and sacrifice.
I assure you – all of these elements will be present in today’s outing and, as such, I am not heretic, but a true believer. Take for example, sacrifice. What greater sacrifice can there be than braving the desolate country roads of rural Virginia, with nary an espresso in sight, facing a near-rabid canine darting at me as I exhaustedly summit a roller? In the same vein, the path to our climbing routes planned for the afternoon takes us between Scylla and Charybdis – the dreaded “Poison Ivy Gully” descent or a rappel off manky tree anchors that could, at any moment, be messed with by meth tweakers frequenting the trail. I shall not even speak of the fact that we have to arrive at our destinations in a minivan, for no other mode of transport can accommodate the Hydra masking as our multi-sport gear collection.
The religious experience will be all worth it. There is little that compares to the hum of my overpriced drivetrain on a crisp October day or the cloud of climbing chalk following me like a halo as I flail like a stuck pig on a sandbag Great Falls eliminate. I thusly urge you to consider the wisdom of the ancients and erase differences between the gods. As far back as Homer, great thinkers recognized a unity in the multiplicity of the divine. Skiing season, here I come!
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Until reaching Old Age (a recent occurrance) I fancied myself a multi-sport athlete. My fencing coach's fecning coach had an interesting insight. A promising student had parents ask "what it would take" for the child to reach their potential, a not-so-veiled inquiry into becoming an olympian. "Tell us what we have to do" they asked.
The coach replied, "it isn't what you're willing to do. We all know what that is. The question is 'what are you willing to give up?' Weekends at the mall with your friends. Late night movies. Organized vacations in the summer. Good grades in school. Flashy cell phones, cars, fashionable clothes, and chat time. Because all those things are incompatible with everything that will give you a competitive chance...and there are thousands of kids eagerly willing to give all that up...and more...to beat you out of the miniscule chance of success."
Choose.
There are greater gods and lesser gods. To be admitted into the pantheon they must complement, and not detract from, the oblations of the Velominatus. Otherwise, they are anathema. This is the essence of Rule #4.
Like eightzero, Old Age has entered the sphere of personal influence. As a younger man, the Gods of hockey, lacrosse, and (European) football were my guardians. To this, I added the Gods of golf and tennis as maturity, family and job intervened - these were more complementary to the requirements of each. But like any good career, the funnel narrowed, specialization increased and each of these became casualties of time, distraction and necessity, shucked off the back of the peloton like a non-gifted domestique. As the field of sport narrowed and my joints suffered, the Bike loomed ever larger; and now only the gym assumes the purpose of muscular diversification - it is a great complement to the reduced cycling work-outs in the winter. However, perhaps the greatest result of this narrowing field is that there is more time for the motivating factors that propel my cycling adventures - 12 ounce curls, winery trips, espresso bars and the three course meal. All Hail Bacchus! And the Bike
Climbing. The thing I love as much as cycling. Both sports are filled with panache, looking fantastic, Rules and storied histories. There's just not enough hours in the day to devote to both, but they do go together like peas and carrots.
Here's @scaler911 getting it done (wrong): heels up (bad), knee on ice (bad), where's the rope? It was a fantastic day!
Interesting thing going on here.
I too race and rock climb (mostly boulder at the gym). As a matter of fact, I probably do too much of both although my climbing is limited to 2x a week at the gym right now. It seems not too uncommon either, while riding to a race this summer, I ran into a racer/climber and I've run into racers at the gym.
One benefit of each is they take your mind off of the other obsession. It's amazing how I can walk out of the gym after 2+ hours and all of a sudden "remember" that I'm a cyclist or that I actually have to race that evening and probably shouldn't have climbed that hard.
Right now the cycling is more important than the climbing for me as I'm getting better results on the bike. Once my tennis elbow goes, I'll push the climbing again and that'll take precedent until March or so.
I have not developed any large muscles at all from bouldering, if anything my arms have gotten smaller.
@michael
Your avatar looks like it was taken at PIR. You a PDX guy?
Ahh, first world problems. I too can relate and might add another layer. For me, kayaking, climbing, skiing, hiking, etc are things that I also do for my vocation. Some say do what you love for a job and you'll never work a day in your life, some day don't shit where you play. I prefer the former. That said, not all these things are equal. I started to teach people how to paddle and lead expeditions because I loved to paddle. I still do. But even when I'm paddling for the sake of paddling work is never too far removed from my thoughts. Same holds for skiing. Climbing and backpacking on the other hand are things I do because I 'have' to work. I've never understood why one would throw 40-50 pounds of shit on one's back and walk it around when one could put it in a perfectly good boat and paddle it around. Climbing is "meh" to me personally but I appreciate it greatly for the educational opportunities it can provide on so many levels.
Cycling on the other hand is mine and mine alone. Mine to share with the likes of you all, other dedicates, enthusiasts and nutcases for cycling. Mine to steal away with on my own and get lost in my own thoughts. Mine to be selfish with and not have to think about teaching progressions, certifications, trainings, credit loads, grants, schedules, risk management or students mucking about in my craft. Cycling I do purely for the love of it and for that reason it rises to the top. Okay, accept for maybe whitewater expedition open canoeing and tele skiing in the back country in fresh pow pow - the jury will always be out on these three things which is why I must keep doing them to see which wins out.
Growing up in the PNW I am familiar with the pantheon of gods that are to be worshiped. In the past century I was aware of a particular group of zealots who would attempt to appease as many gods as possible during the midsummer solstice - an event during which I'm certain there was a fair amount of Rule #5. For a significant period of the 1990's I was in (unknown) observance of Rule #25 as there was a whitewater kayak, mountain bike, and a set of skis all above the roofline of my 1982 Honda Accord.
Like @Marko said "first world problems".
As a climber as well as cyclist, I must say that the pursuit of the V is not limited to cycling. When you're 25' above your last anchor and committed to putting everything into the next 6" of upward mobility - there's something akin to the V. Whatever you want to call it, it spells out a willingness to deal with pain and effort beyond one's perceived abilities. Seems like it's all related.
Every once in a while--not too often--a thread like this is useful so that people get a reminder that we're all real people with varied interests. (Too much of that shit is a buzzkill, obviously.)
My destination this afternoon:
Protection Island sits 2 miles out in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and it's strictly off limits inside 200 yards, 'cause two thirds of all the water-type birds on the Salish Sea nest there. Beach your boat there, and the authorities will cut off your balls and sew them to your head.
Oh, and ninety thousand seals live there. And what did I learn today? As individuals, seals are damned cute (we knew this part already). But when three dozen of them are swimming shoulder to shoulder like a fucking phalanx of Spartan infantry, closely following your 21-inch wide kayak in open water, it feels different. What a day.