The Dirt Field

I had a life-changing revelation the other night and I keep meaning to do a post about it, but every time I sit down to write, somehow that turns into sprawling on the couch watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy. This feels lazy and bad in theory, except that my body is bordering on dead from all the riding lately and I think the couch time counts as recovery. It just sucks that the fridge doesn’t deliver.

But back to my revelation. The last time I posted, I was all dark and anxious and moments from putting my furniture in the dumpster in a quest for clarity. And then, while lying in bed late on Saturday night, it popped into my head: I have been desperately seeking the answer to the wrong question. The question that matters is not, “How can I get a pro contract?” The only question that matters is, “How can I get better?”

As I’m sharing this with you now, it’s coming out all lighthearted and glib, but the truth is that in one simple realization, everything changed. I can hardly explain it. It all just made sense in an instant. Instead of fretting over each decision and analyzing possible outcomes, instead of tying myself in knots over something  I can’t control, I will focus on answering the one question where there is always a clear answer: How can I get better?

I am in love with the way this new philosophy feels. It’s like a weight has been lifted. All I have to worry about now is training hard and figuring out each decision based on whether or not it will make me a better cyclist. Getting a pro contract or scoring big results won’t improve my riding; they are things that will come naturally if I focus my efforts on just getting better.

Now all I am thinking about is training. I freaking love training! (See that? I used an exclamation point. I never use those unless I’m being sarcastic. This is like being high in a USADA-friendly way.) What needs the most improvement now is my climbing ability, so I’ve spent the past few weeks climbing everything around. (My third-floor neighbors looked at me strangely when I appeared on their balcony from outside.) This past weekend alone, I rode for over eight hours and covered 131.5 miles with 12,312 feet of climbing. It hurt like hell for the last few hours of yesterday’s ride, but even after getting caught in a thunderstorm on Mt. Weather and curling up in a ball under some trees to hide from the lightning that eventually struck one of those trees (also, HOLY SHIT), I still drove home thinking the whole experience was awesome and I couldn’t wait to do it again.

First I will need to regain use of my knees.

This is good, people. My life is not perfect and all of my problems are not solved, but this much is finally under control. I love riding my bike and now the only thing that matters is doing it as well as possible. It’s amazing how well you can climb when you drop the dead weight you’ve been dragging around.