Sometimes it's good just to go back to the beginning. Years ago, when a friend of mine took me on my first "real" bike ride, I rode a relatively hilly route between Montgomery and Richards Texas, through the Sam Houston National forest. Although I was at least five years younger than I am today, and the weather was a lot cooler that October morning, I had to be rescued from the predictable "bonk." I thought I might never ride again.
Today part of my long ride covered that very same route, and a lot more besides. The morning woke warm and humid, You could almost see the air, especially when the newly risen sun sliced through pines of the forest. Sometimes it was so still, not a twig stirred. All I could hear was the sound of my chain, my tires, and my breathing.
This ride not only covered more miles than my first trip down that road; it covered more mental real estate as well. I've got a decision to make. Some of you who know me (or at least the blog me) might have an inkling what that decision is. For me it's a tough decision because it is dream and an effort I don't know that I am ready for. Moreover, it is a commitment that will affect other people besides myself. I haven't made the decision yet, but the ride gave me some tools that might come in handy.
1. Start where you are. It's the only place you can start. Watching the clock or wishing you were closer to your goal is wasted energy. Goals are only reached if you start. Ready or not, you can only start where you are.
2. Use what you have. Sure it might be nice to be bigger, stronger, faster . . . but all I've got is me, my bike and the stuff I brung with me. Waiting for perfect conditions results only in waiting.
3. Climb the hill in front of you. There are a lot of rollers and hills between Montgomery and Richards, but thinking about the one you see down the road or the one you know round the bend does not serve to get you up the hill that is under your tires. Those hills can only be climbed one at a time, and the best way to climb them is to have your brain and your body both climbing the same hill at the same time.
If I can manage that, maybe . . . just maybe. . .
Want to read more by TriGreyhound? You can find him on his blog here!