Archive for May 2010
Ain’t got nothin’ for the rest of the week neither.
Sore shoulders from yesterday. Sore hip flexors from yesterday. Sore biceps from pulling too early on the power cleans on Monday. Sore (just a little) back from the deadlifts yesterday. Sore VMOs from the squats.
All good signs.
Food has been alternately perfect and train-wreck. Fee has been unwell, which lead to lots of pasta, which lead to left over pasta. And she made hedgehog, which is delicious and evil. Sleep has been bad. Late nights, some interruptions. The cold is losing its grip though and the rest of it will pass.
I ante’d up, put my money on the table and my name on the line to renew my MTBA membership and reserve a place in the Solo Men category of Round #2 of the Chase the Sun series. Six solid hours. God knows I need em.
I haven’t been lucky enough to truly follow it, but the Giro has been epic this year. It will be the race I stay up for next year. How’s this for earning it?
Cadel has been amazing.
In today’s road race I worked hard on the front, in the wind. Some others did too, but a few did the minimum. Last season it made me mad, this season I just wonder what racing looks like to those guys. They are often there at the finish contesting the sprint. Sometimes they post decent results, ahead of me. It’s competition and they are racing, using all of the tactics available to put themselves in a good position to win. They save themselves for the finish but what’s lost along the way? I think we’re here for different reasons.
I’m not here to save myself.
I am here to destroy myself.
I am not here for the smart if smart means shirking the work.
I am here for The Hard.
It may look like I’m here to lose or give the race away.
But when I win one I will have fucking earned it.
I just don’t get it. We’re amateurs. It’s a hobby. The sport is tough. That difficulty makes the feeling of finishing well after having utterly smashed yourself so satisfying. I know that feeling. I wonder what it feels like to finish after having sat in, after having done the bare minimum for 99% of the race, and then shooting to the line on reasonably fresh legs ahead of the chasing, faltering pack. Is it a good feeling, that win? It must be.
Still, why wouldn’t you work hard enough to break and redefine yourself? Afraid of what you might find?