Cycling: Holding My Own

Obligatory cow shot.
Obligatory cow shot. It was still cold in the morning, so I was bundled up. But, we were eventually able to strip down to shorts and short sleeves πŸ™‚

“It’s been a while since we rode together,” John said. “You’re different.”

Pause.

“I’m impressed.”

I beamed.

Wow. That is high praise indeed.

To say that cycling has not come naturally to me would be an understatement. It’s like saying that Rinny is an okay runner, or Michael Phleps knows a little bit about swimming, or Lance Armstrong only took a few “natural” enhancements.

For the first 3 years that I raced triathlon, I never quite “got” the bike. I had (foolishly) thought that my running history would allow me to power the bike and that would be that.

Um, no.

What I have learned is that cycling has really really really improved my running. But, only cycling – and lots of it – has improved my cycling. When I decided to get really serious about truly racing triathlon – rather than just participating – I knew the focus would have to be the bike.

So, I’ve spent volumes of time on the bike since then. Long rides. Hard rides. Tempo Rides. Threshold rides. Interval rides. Skill rides. Recovery rides. Big gear rides. Mixed cadence rides. Rides I don’t even know what the _ _ _ _ rides. Rides to warm up for my rides.

I remember the early days of my triathlon experience, when John and I would try to ride “together”. We’d start out and I would quickly fall behind. I just couldn’t seem to keep up no matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked. I bonked many times. I lost all power in my legs many times. I was frustrated many times. I felt like a failure many times.

In the first year of Ironman training, John would dutifully loop around once he got out of eye-shot to make sure I was okay. After that year, we stopped even trying to ride together because there was no way he could get a decent ride in like that. He was looking to qualify for Kona at that time, and I was only holding him back.

I sucked.

But, beyond what John needed, I needed learn how to manage my own effort – and more importantly my own mind. I needed to get inside of my head to deal with the voices thatΒ always come when I’m on the bike.

I had to face them directly – and tell them to go to heck.

So, yeah, I’m not a natural by any means when it comes to cycling, but I am stubborn, and I will not quit. Ever.

Last weekend (April 12) was a special moment for me, and it made me feel so good to hear John recognize it. He’s a tough one to impress, and he always gives it to me straight. And, that’s a good thing. When he compliments me, I know he means it.

Last weekend, John, our friend Rob and I took a two hour drive to French Creek State Park, in Elverson, PA, to get on some vertical. And by “some”, I mean 4200 feet of climbing in about 58 miles. So, yeah, hilly.

Overview of the French Creek State Park system. We did a 20 mile loop around the park.
Overview of the French Creek State Park system. We did a 20 mile loop around the park.

We did a 20 loop that would allow the three of to stay reasonably near each other, and to check in at the car for extra water, food, etc.

During the first loop, the boys were kicking my arse. They were consistently ahead. But, I knew what my numbers and RPE should be, so I had to let them go. They nicely waited for me at each major turn. I figured for the second loop they wouldn’t have to wait because I would know where I was going at that point, and they could just go on without me.

But, for the second loop, the gap was much closer. I had them in eyeshot the entire time. Steady does it. Just sticking to my numbers.

And then it came time for the third loop. By then, it was clear the boys had rode too hard the first loop, and they were fading. Me? I was feeling strong and coming into my own – mind and body.

We came to one of the first big climbs of the loop, on Crusher Road. I remembered the name of the road because I kept thinking about “crushing” the hill.

When we started the climb, I went first after we made a sharp left onto Crusher. I figured they’d be passing me any minute. It took about 15 minutes to get to the top. And they never passed me.

I stopped at the top and looked back – I didn’t even see them. Well, how about that?

I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t cheer a bit. It’s not nice to want to beat your husband and your friend – but in that moment I realized the effort I’ve put into the bike for the past two years is starting to come around. I almost got weepy, but there was still riding to be done πŸ˜‰

Later on, we came to another hill. At this point, the boys were holding the front. I passed them–on another long climb. Spin. Spin. Spin.

John said, “What are you showing off?”

I said, “Nope. Just riding my numbers.”

And I was – just like I had done from the start of the ride. And I felt great. Really great.

At that point, I think John decided the rest of the ride wasn’t going to go down with me chicking him, so he rode harder and of course passed me πŸ™‚

But, it didn’t matter at that point–I knew I could hold my own – mind and body.

Lest my head get too big, however, I was promptly brought back to reality when I dropped my chain with just 7 minutes left to the ride. I had shifted too abruptly.

So, yeah, I still have a lot to learn and no one would mistake me for an expert cyclist. But last weekend’s ride meant a lot to me. Last weekend’s ride showed me that hard work DOES pay off, and the consistency of purpose, and singularity of focus is worth the sacrifices that I’ve made.

Come race day, I’ll be holding my own, and those sacrifices won’t matter one bit.

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