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Every morning I fight to get on the bike. I fight temptation. I fight laziness. I fight old habits. I fight my own fear. I fight to get on the bike. It is after I have reached my goal that I am proud that I have completed this part of the journey. Every morning is the same, and every end is rewarding.
Starting is so hard. Getting out of the comfort zone and into a place of discomfort is less than appealing. Who wants to feel their muscles burn, their back ache, their joints buckle or their face chilled? What is the point of this? Why subject yourself to such torture? You are not getting paid? You are not getting cheered? You have no commitment to this task. You have no authority checking over you. What is the point?
This morning was like many mornings past. One would think that after all this time, the doubt, the fear and the resistance would have been calmed by now. It would make sense that the barriers to get on the bike would be easier to overcome. Getting on the bike by now, should be as easy as breathing, walking to the restroom in the middle of the night, or stroking the fur of an ungrateful kitten. It should be easy. In all honesty is it easy. Get your gear on, get on the bike, go outside and pedal until you get your goal. It should be that easy, its not.
The weather report called for a cooler day than before. The wind was supposed to be frigid. The temperature was supposed to be in the low thirties, (-1.11 C). The sky was a dim haze of gray. The streets looked like they were still wet from the recent snowfall. It was easy to imagine the streets would be a sheet of ice, at worst or a bunch of frosted puddles at best. It was easy to imagine that the wheel of the bike loosing traction and flying in the wrong direction. The thought of sliding on the frozen asphalt, having to walk my self and the bike back home, limping was enough to send a shutter down my spine. I didn’t have to go outside.
Then I thought about getting back on the bike trainer. Sitting on the bike starting at the bike computer, counting up my miles as I judged my effort and heart rate. It was a workout. I could watch television, videos of people outside, actually riding their bikes, while a title card and some animations gave me cues as to what I needed to change. I could do that. I could ride inside. Then I looked out the window.
The snow from the previous storm had all but melted. I could see the grass in the yards. I could see the asphalt on the ground. I could see the cars parked outside. I could see the outside, without the cover of winter. Had I not known this was January, I would have thought that this was March. ‘I have the gear’, I thought. ‘I have paid for it, no sense in letting that investment go to waste.’ The decision was made, that I was going outside.
I slipped on the gear, a jersey, a pair of shorts, a heavy jacket, a pair of insulated pants, socks, baklava, running shoes, glasses and my trusty heart rate monitor before heading for the door. I opened the door and looked at the outside for a moment. The sun wasn’t quite at its highest, so the air was cool. Cool didn’t mean frigid cold, as I expected. Like most things on the East coast, this was a dry cold. I stood in the door way, holding my bike, not moving, debating on if I was going to actually go out. ‘There is still time to change your mind. You can always stay inside and ride.’ There was that thought again. That mention of turning back, that as always present when I started something. It was as persistent as salesmen and at loud as a mega phone. I could hear it as clear as I could hear the birds chirping in the distance. I placed the water bottle on the bike and thought about what I was going to do. I was going to ride bike outside. The only question is where was I going to ride.
I had at least three routes I could take. One route was between two parks. This had the benefit of being close to home, but it was littered with steep hills. The back end of this was route was a up hill battle along a major road just to get back to the start point. This route had been done numerous times before. I know I could do it. I didn’t want to ride around, circling back and past my start point to get the mileage in. The temptation to cut the ride short or to loop back to the start (cutting corners) was close to a reality. Why risk it? The second route, led up to the mall. This route was a larger loop that at its apex, held a single steep hill. This hill would need either a very strong pair of legs or a massively low gear to negotiate. The back side of this route was a steep descent for about four miles. Even on a bad day, a fast descent that ended at the front door was a great thing. The final route is an extension of the second. Unlike the second route, it didn’t contain a steep climb. What is did have was a set of major climbs before heading back to the start. This route was double in length as the others. It ran deep in to the farm country, away from any gas stations, restaurants, fast food chains or the like. This route sent you in to the boonies. What was more, is that this route took twice as long to complete. Spanning all the way to Madonna before heading back, it would take a surplus of time and energy to complete. It was completed once before, in the heat of the summer. Today, in the winter, in the cold, completing this was less of a certainty.
I closed the door, tossed a leg over the bike and pedaled to the top of my block, where the route would start. Today I would pay my miles fees with a trip to the mall and take my reward up in the form of a great descent on the way back home. This way I would get the strength training of the climbs and the rush of flying on the way back. No corners cut. No temptations, to face. This would be a simple ride up and back.
‘You can still stop. You can still turn back. You don’t have to be cold. No one will know. You don’t need to do this. ‘
I started my way up watching traffic until I reached route nine hundred twenty-four. This road had more hills than its State run counter part. It also had lower traffic. Route twenty-four’s traffic was a kin to speeding on the interstate, where route nine hundred twenty-four was slower and more bike friendly. I tackled the hills and the smaller ascents with patience. All the while the doubt and fear in my head continued to remind me how easy it would be to turn around. For every mile I covered, it calculated how many miles I would have covered if I turned around. At the five mile mark, I would have covered ten miles. At the seven mile point, I would have covered fort-teen. At the eight mile mark, I would have covered, six-teen. It was a constant battle of, no I will not, verses, it would be so easy. I felt like I was climbing a rope, struggling to reach the top. It wasn’t that gravity was pulling at me that drained my strength, it was bickering and crying. The battle that I could feel, that sent me from extremes of focus to extremes of its opposite.
At the ten mile point, weather I turned around and went back home or not, I would have made it the twenty miles. I would just have not made it the full route. This point was right behind the mall. I could walk around the mall, get some sights in, do some shopping, maybe even sit in the display chairs and put my feet up. I could have, but that was not why I was there. I was there to get a work out in. I was there to work.
‘You can take a break. You can get warm. You don’t have to push. No one is watching. ‘
I sped past the mall and headed forward on the route. Down toward the bridge, in to small valley, the bike sailed. The computer on the outfront mount screaming speeds of more than thirty miles per hour. In the dark this would be frightening. Imagine flying in to the night at this speed and not knowing how close you are to the bottom. In the day, under the sunlight, this three thousand thirty six foot drop, felt more like a quick stumble. As quick as it had started, it was over and I was climbing out. Spinning the pedals up the thirteen percent gradient for the next two and a half miles, I was calmed to not have to hear the doubt an fear that had followed me. The absence was a relief. It allowed me to concentrate on pushing the pedals and spinning my way to the highest point on the ride.
A quick sail and shift, before I was back at home. I looked at the map of where I had been and I felt a sense of pride. I was cool not cold. I was a sweaty mess but I was not exhausted. I was back from a battle that I had won, knowing that the war would still rage. Starting is always so hard. Finishing always feel so great.
By: | Na Derro Cartwright |
Started in: | Harford County, MD, US |
Distance: | 20,2 mi |
Selected: | 20,2 mi |
Elevation: | + 1209 / - 1210 pie |
Moving Time: | 01:29:20 |
Gear: | Scott Speedster Gravel |
Page Views: | 6 |
Departed: | 6 ene 2022 12:26 |
Starts in: | Harford County, MD, US |
Distance: | 20,2 mi |
Selected distance: | 20,2 mi |
Elevation: | + 1209 / - 1210 pie |
Max Grade: | |
Avg Grade | |
Cat | |
FIETS | |
VAM | |
Ascent time | |
Descent time | |
Total Duration: | 01:34:23 |
Selection Duration: | 5663 |
Moving Time: | 01:29:20 |
Selection Moving Time: | 01:29:20 |
Stopped Time: | 00:05:03 |
Max Speed: | 35,3 mph |
Avg Speed: | 13,6 mph |
Pace: | 00:04:39 |
Moving Pace: | 00:04:24 |
Max Cadence: | 117 rpm |
Min Cadence: | 10 rpm |
Avg Cadence: | 72 rpm |
Max HR: | 167 bpm |
Min HR: | 98 bpm |
Avg HR: | 147 bpm |
Best format for turn-by-turn directions on modern Garmin Edge Devices
Best format for turn by turn directions on Edge 500, 510. Will provide true turn by turn navigation on Edge 800, 810, 1000, Touring including custom cue entries. Great for training when we release those features. Not currently optimal for Virtual Partner.
Useful for uploading your activity to another service, keeping records on your own computer etc.
Useful for any GPS unit. Contains no cuesheet entries, only track information (breadcrumb trail). Will provide turn by turn directions (true navigation) on the Edge 705/800/810/1000/Touring, but will not have any custom cues. Works great for Mio Cyclo. Find GPS specific help in our help system.
Estimated Time shows a prediction of how long it would take you to ride a given route. This number is based on your recent riding history, and represents an estimate of moving time. Each time you upload a new ride, your Estimated Time profile will adjust to reflect your most recent riding. Only rides exceeding 10 miles (16 km) will affect these estimates.
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