Some Tuesday's I like to go to Donaldson Center in Greenville to ride in the Tuesday Night World Championships, but last night I stayed local for a training ride since none of my training partners were able to go north. I love the culture and riding at Donaldson, but it's not as motivating when I am alone so I headed out near home to put a few miles on the road by myself. It's a little hard to describe to people all of the nuances of bike racing and of simply enjoying a good ride when they ask why I am hooked on cycling. I thought a brief description of just a regular afternoon out riding will paint a picture I can point back to now and then. Here goes...
It's hot...every day in June has been over 90 degrees on our part of The South. Our summers are known for the heat, but this heat and the afternoon storms have been a record. Right now the sky is balling up, but I think I'll be OK for the ride. If not, I've been wet before. It's OK as long as the road shoulders don't flood and I watch out for slick patches of highway. And on this route I have friends who can offer shelter if needed.
I pull by bike off the car rack and give the tires a quick squeeze. I've already added air and done my pre-ride check in the morning when I loaded up. I trade my t-shirt and pull on a clean jersey over my bib shorts. I strap on my cleated shoes, grab my helmet & sun glasses, and drop two cold water bottles into the cages on the bike. Then I re-set my cycling computer to measure speed, distance, cadence, and heart-rate. I swing a leg over the bike and clip my feet on the pedals as I take my first strokes.
As I ease onto the road I drop the bike chain onto the small ring on the front as is somewhat of a tradition with many cyclists when warming up. Yes, it may be hot, but I still ride better if I warm to the task as opposed to staring out with a hammerfest. I spin lightly while gathering up a bit of speed. After about a mile and a half I crest a small rise and move the chain onto the big ring. Now fully engaged the work starts. I sweep a arching bend and glide over a long flat followed by a decent. I take a mental note that the wind is blowing medium light from my right to left.
Now I am rolling well and my mind begins to find it's own cadence. Somehow I can think about the ride and at the same time I can think about work, life, relationships and other topics. The noise and clutter disappear and things seem to find the rhythm. It is liberating. Good work is happening to mind, body, and soul.
As I roll over the bridge I hit the first long uphill grade. I've done it faster other days and especially on group rides, but I have good legs today. I click through progressively lighter gears as I climb, but keep the pace strong and then increase gears back up to full speed as I top out onto flat road. The sky still looks good. I feel good.
At the main town stop light I turn left and wisk back out of town. The wind has increased, but it is now at my back. For the next eight miles I will eat up the pavement with a combination of favorable wind, good terrain and strong effort. Everything is working well. I feel like I can ride forever.
I blast past the little bar where Harter, Shady, and Rooster usually sit inside passing some time after the day shift. Once and a while I stop by and say hello. They say they are available if I ever need a helping hand on a ride and they express concern over my safety. I tell them they are good men and I'll hold onto that offer. Sometimes I tell them that my life is different with Christ and I'm happy to talk about it if they are interested. But there is no visit today. Me and the road are working it out.
I power up another incline and as I come over the top I remember the house on the left has two German Shepherds that like to chase. I add a bit of speed as I approach and I look down the road at a logging truck coming from the other direction. I think about liking dogs, but I don't mind that interference is fast approaching from the bottom of the hill. Does this make me a bad man?
At the corner I refuse to look at my average speed thinking it will bad luck. I know I'm fast today, but now I have almost 10 miles left that is largely a low grade uphill and the wind has shifted against me. It's not steep, but the length adds up. Now what we call "the man with the hammer" comes to dish out some pain. The work becomes alot harder and I want to keep the effort, but I know I can not afford to over extend my effort and crack. Once a rider cracks the power is gone and it's all over except to just trying to make it back at a low speed.
I manage by thinking about pushing on just to the state park. At the state park I think about continuing hard to the bait store. The Bait & Tackle Store, with the used car lot next door, with the wrecker service next to that, with the auto shop next to that, are all owned by Terry. He is another of my local safe harbors. I stopped once to look at a 1962 Chevy pickup and Terry told me how he collected the land and businesses over the years for him and his kin. He says if I am ever stuck, or hurt, or need water, or just need a helping hand that I just need to let him know. He is good people, that Terry.
Passing the bait store I think about just going on with the big effort to the crossroads. I focus on smooth round pedal strokes. My body is quiet above the waist with no bobbing or weaving and my elbows stay bent as I keep my arms relaxed. It is a good sign that I am maintaining good form. And once at the crossroads I tell myself I can't back off now because the finish line is coming in just a few miles. Yes, I guess I was playing mind games, but the last stretch seemed a lot more manageable broken into pieces. I bear down just a bit more making sure I finish strong.
Rolling into the parking lot I am pleased with the effort. I did the work. I enjoyed the ride. My mind is clear and life is good. I load the bike, towel off, and get ready to leave.
A guy strolls over and asked a few questions about my bike and the distance I rode. He marvels at the distance and says he should be doing something like that. I smile, answer his questions, and encourage him try riding. That's what I do. I'm a cyclist.
