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“Comfort is the enemy of progress.” This is a loose interpretation of one line from Denzel Washington’s speech. I know he is an actor. This line however was made to college students during a graduation ceremony. It was not in a movie or in a play. This was something he wrote for an audience that he would address. I would like to think that he made this speech from his heart. “Comfort is the enemy of progress.” My interpretation of that is that as long as you are comfortable you are not moving forward. It is hard to move forward when you’re comfortable, simply for the fact that you are comfortable.
Such was the case today. Like the days prior I had to fight with me inner demons to simply get out from under the covers. The small space heater in my bedroom had warmed the space to something in to the comfortable 70’s or high 60’s. I know this as the cat would place himself in my room as opposed to being anywhere else. He liked to be warm, this silly cat and being anywhere that was not warm was out of the question. In the morning I had resolved to sit in my bed under the covers. The forecast called for the weather to be about twenty-six degrees. Just the thought of that icy air against my face sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t want to be cold. I didn’t need to be cold. I didn’t even want to be cold. It was only for the reason that I had already completed sixteen out of thirty days that I was pushed to at least try to get my time on the bike.
On the days that I stayed inside I would ride my bike on the trainer. The trainer being a small device that lifted the back wheel and pressed it against a resistance roller, this gave me the impression that I was riding on the road. The faster the wheel spun the greater the resistance. While my body was fighting the trainer, my mind would be occupied by watching videos of teams riding on youtube. More often than not I would get my miles in but at the cost of watching either the miles tick over on the GPS computer or counting the number of efforts that would need to be completed on the screen. Either way I was counting something. Over time, the mind becomes accustom to these numbers, and finds away to reach the predetermined goal without the same effort. You can call it cheating, I call it the cost of riding in doors. The result of this is that your effort level is uncommonly low. You can see how much you actually tried and compare it to how much you tried the day before. If this number is low then that is a problem. Where is if this number is high, then you need to rest a little more and allow your body to recover. More times than not, indoor training was a low number.
After almost a week of indoor spinning, the weather was scheduled to warm up to about fourty degrees by the afternoon. Even before the sun had risen I had already decided to get on the bike and get outside. My mind was already racing with which route I would take. I could ride to the mall, diving in to a deep valley and having to pedal my way up a steep hill to get back home. I could spin around the neighborhood, looping around schools and parks. I would have to fight my way up a set of steep hills, in order to get home. I could be bold and ride to Harve de Grace or Madonna, and get my fourty miles in. Neither of which would require climbing a steep hill but they would require a three hour commitment. The last time made this commitment, I was taking calls while out on the bike. While it was perfectly possible to accomplish, it was not ideal. At about twelve o five, I was out the door, fully dressed in my bib short, heart rate monitor, cycling jersey, winter jacket, baklava, glasses, helmet, gloves and my gravel bike. The route, already programmed in to my GPS computer. The mall would be an easy outdoor ride. I knew when I would have to burn my matches and when I could allow the momentum to carry me. It wasn’t easy but is wasn’t a lung busting effort either.
At the start of the ride, I caught myself counting the miles. Instantly I regretting taking this route. At most the ride would give me only 10 miles of climbing. Those miles would be just getting to Bel Air. After that it is down in to the valley, up to the entrance to Annie’s playground, only to end prematurely with a steep descent back home. What was worse was that there was no other cyclist on the road. I couldn’t look toward anyone else for motivation. Making the first five miles was hard. All the way I was counting the number of revolutions that culminated in to a tenth of a mile. My mind raced with the impressions of how stupid I must have looked to drivers. My little nose ran like a faucet. I could feel the sweat from my body gathering at the cuffs of my jacket. I wasn’t cold, but I was definitely uncomfortable. At the five mile mark, affixed my eyes on the horizon and tried my best not to look at the computer. Instead I listened to the audio book ‘A Promised Land’ by Barack Obama in my headphone. Listening to what he went through, to get to the White House , made me question if I had what is takes to make the same journey. Not so much as the work ethic or the manual labor, but more so of the social aspect. Could I reach people the way that he did?
At the ten mile marker, I was in Bel Air. Standing at the familiar traffic light waiting to cross behind the mall and in front of the Best Buy, this would be the beginning of the hard work. On any normal day, I was keep the chain in the highest gear and fight to turn the pedals over. On a downhill slope, this would add speed and give me more momentum to carry in to the next climb. In a climb, I am ultimately attempting to spin the back wheel faster than the bike can physically move. This wasn’t going to be a normal day. As I crossed the mall an began my descent in to the valley, I shifted the bike in to the small of the two front chain rings. I pressed my chest as low as I could stretch allowing the wind to sail over my back. At the position the bike easily reached upwards of thirty miles per hour. By the time I reached the valley the bike had already begun to slow down. The steep climb had sucked the speed out of the wheels and left the labor of pushing the pedal up to me. In the easier gear, I didn’t have to pedal as hard to get the bike moving. I was able to spin the pedal enough to, not only climb out of the valley, but I could easily reach the entrance to Annie’s playground.
I shifted the bike back the large front chain ring. I was happy with the fact that I had missed the computer turning over at least three of the miles that I could remember. I was content with the fact that there was no further heavy climbs that I had to fight my way up, or any other technical/logistical obstacles I had to overcome. For a moment I actually thought about looking for a longer path to traverse so I could push the limits of what I had already accomplished. I was happy. Is this what happy feels like? Being able to look back on what you have done and being proud? Overcoming an climb, beating a problem, meeting a goal, is this what happiness is supposed to feel like? In that moment I felt small, like a child looking in the mirror an saying, ‘its all I know’. If happiness is the completion of work, then how can anyone be happy doing nothing? How can one be happy sitting still? Is this all I know as happy? Is this as good as it gets?
I descended the hills to get back home. I wondered. The more I wondered the sadder I felt. I can ride, I can accomplish, I can finish, I can look back on the work that I have done and feel good about it. What about when I cant do anymore. Then what can I be happy about? The thought sent a shutter through me. May be this is my curse. I have been raised and conditioned to, only enjoy the fruits of my labor. I don’t want to have to be a slave to work. I don’t want to be able to only enjoy after I have labored. I want to just enjoy. Maybe its something wrong with me. Maybe there is something wrong with my thinking. Maybe years and decades of only being acknowledged after a work has been completed has left me feeling empty. Maybe there is no peace for me without a battle. Maybe there is no satisfaction without war. Maybe there is no comfort without struggle. “Comfort is the enemy of progress.” Or maybe I have just not progress enough to earn my rest.
By: | Na Derro Cartwright |
Started in: | Harford County, MD, US |
Distance: | 20,3 mi |
Selected: | 20,3 mi |
Elevation: | + 1177 / - 1178 ft |
Moving Time: | 01:31:27 |
Gear: | Scott Speedster Gravel |
Page Views: | 16 |
Departed: | 13.01.2022, 12:05 |
Starts in: | Harford County, MD, US |
Distance: | 20,3 mi |
Selected distance: | 20,3 mi |
Elevation: | + 1177 / - 1178 ft |
Max Grade: | |
Avg Grade | |
Cat | |
FIETS | |
VAM | |
Ascent time | |
Descent time | |
Total Duration: | 01:38:18 |
Selection Duration: | 5898 |
Moving Time: | 01:31:27 |
Selection Moving Time: | 01:31:27 |
Stopped Time: | 00:06:51 |
Max Speed: | 38,6 mph |
Avg Speed: | 13,3 mph |
Pace: | 00:04:51 |
Moving Pace: | 00:04:30 |
Max Cadence: | 110 rpm |
Min Cadence: | 10 rpm |
Avg Cadence: | 68 rpm |
Max HR: | 169 bpm |
Min HR: | 97 bpm |
Avg HR: | 143 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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