No words survive here, only echoes. Echoes of our hopes, of our plans, of our failures. What we thought we might do when we came here is little more than a shadow; it flickers on the walls for a moment and when we turn to look, it is gone. Doubts swell up and bounce off the walls until they become so loud they can no longer be heard.
Once we’ve entered, we can not return the way we came; the only way out is to descend into the darkness and through to the other side. When we emerge, we will breathe a new life, one where we are able to push a bit harder, and suffer a bit more. It is a better world, one with opportunity. One where we can make things happen because we have discovered a new limit of our will.
Pushing deeper into The Cave is learned over time. When we first enter, we will find ourselves in a small cavern with no apparent exit. As we train and explore its darkest corners, we discover a passage. We gather our courage and slip into a larger, darker cavern to explore. Beyond that, there lies another. Each holds its own unique strain of suffering, but with it comes also a degree of control; the choice to enter is ours and ours alone.
When I’m strong, my mind yearns for the cleansing qualities of The Cave. I feel almost the master of my pain, that I command its ebbs and flows. Even on days that don’t require it, I will hurt myself just to prove I can. When I’m chasing my fitness, however, I approach it with the same reluctance I had as a child when made to eat my vegetables. The suffering flows over me in waves and I am at the mercy of its current.
My training this summer has been erratic and unstructured. I’ve had some great periods, and just as I’ve neared a goal, either illness or travel unexpectedly reared up before me and interrupted my progress. A week away from the bike means another two weeks before I find myself back to where I was. Two weeks of drifting like a leaf in the current. Two weeks of knowing what lies beyond, unable to reach it.
Then the breakthrough, and into the next cavern. It is only through contemplating the darkest corners of The Cave that we discover its deepest passages and it is within the deepest passages that we may discover our purest selves.
Have courage and follow the path into The Cave. Vive la Vie Velominatus.
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@wiscot Alright, I'll bite. I guess that one could say with a little certainty that that is Claude Criquielion in the background. Kind of looks like his ear.
Here's another photo with the same upper left logo as the one form the tdf in 1990 as opposed to the earlier photo I posted.
That's just cool in so many ways.
@wiscot, @Buck Rogers
@wiscot nails it. Unbelievable. You can see the yellow of Claude's fork in the lead photo.
Love the article. Very timely for me right now as I complete my final two weeks of training and then taper for a ride with more climbing in it than I have ever done. I will definitely be exploring the dark corners of the cave over the next two weeks.
My particular cave this year was the Flat out in the Fens ride. 177 Km ride, after about 95 Km was averaging around 30 kph, then hit the turn into the teeth of a Fen blow - last 70 Km or so was struggling to grind out 17 kph and no one to work with. For those not familiar with the Fens they are flat, no trees, no protection from wind when it blows. Merciless at the back end of a ride. At least with hills there is the satisfaction of getting to the top, on the flat into a gale there is just suffering. VLVV.
Goodness, that Lotto cap! I love the colors.
Anyone tried the new-style "leg power band" bib shorts vs. bibs with a silicone leg gripper? Weighing the pros/cons as I'm in the market for some new, simple black bibs. I don't mind the grippers at all, but seems like a lot of makers and even pro kits are moving to the leg band zone...
Chris, yup, me too regarding the new limits of what can be accomplished on a bike. Not all that long ago, 25km seemed epic to me. I really love how well cycling fits in with life. Extra time, you can ride like mad and develop great fitness. Less time, your rides are shorter but they fill you with even more pleasure because they're a gift, not a grind. And now instead of dabbling in cross I'm actually practice my technique and can feel myself getting better by the day. Nice to be years past when I really competed at and practiced sports and yet be back at being eager to improve.
Any ride makes me feel better mentally and physically, even if it's just a quick 45 minutes in the woods. The only downside (maybe!) is that I ride daily, I can also justify daily post-ride recovery drinks. I reassure the VMH that I have some German ancestry so it's only natural, but she doesn't always buy it.
whoa, for a minute there I thought I'd surfed to a craiglist personals ad for BSDM...
@john
Ok, 124 km/ph is about 75 mph. I've done 80km'ph and that scared me shitless. I don't even drive 75 mph!
@wiscot
I'm with you there, I've hit 85 kph and was wondering where my parachute arrester was and my spare underpants (had I been wearing the first pair to have some to change).