C-Word
Commitment is a pretty big deal in the adult world. Katie and I are getting into the two week zone for our wedding. Simultaneously I am preparing for a 101 mile mtn bike ride that will have over 13,000 feet of vertical climbing. There are parallels to these two events. The wedding is the beginning of a new commitment to Katie and raising a family, and the bike ride is attempting to meet a goal I set for myself (that goal was to ride a hundred miles or a "century," and this will be decidedly harder than a road ride as it is all off-road and technical). Both represent stepping to the next level of commitment in life. There will be compromise and suffering, but the end result is to build and grow. Hard work is the corner stone for both events. Stepping up to the plate is the first challenge for both marriage and a challenging goal like riding 100 miles. Setting the proper. sustainable, pace and holding the course will make the challenges surmountable.
Using sports metaphors is one of my downfalls. I can go on and on refrencing athletic endeavors I have never even been a part of in order to try to explain myself. Maybe its the simplest common denominator when it comes to passing ideas. Whatever. Riding a bike has so many metaphors wrapped into its simple rubber-meets-road (or trail) front.
Climbing. To get to a goal, no matter if it is to be a good husband and father or the top of a mountain, one must work hard. With each revolution of the cranks or the planet, its the amount of work you put in that will determine the payoff in the end. I have been driving Katie crazy because I always have tons of little projects eating up my attention instead of putting more into helping prepare for the wedding. I see that pattern a lot with dudes, they ask for a hand in marriage, then just want to show up at the ceremony and have it done with. Fact is, there is a lot to get done and if I want my lady to love me the day we tie the knot, I have to put in the effort that shows her I aim to get to the top of that hill. Tonight we meet with Bill Doricott, the gentleman who will be marrying us, to scout out the Cement Creek Ranch spread. Katie and I have been down to the meadow, but now it is time to lay out the game plan and refine the process. Its like Lance Armstrong taking the time to ride the course of Le Tour before the event. The more familiar we become with the territory the better we will be prepared come the Big Day.
This bike ride, dubbed the Crested Butte Classic, will go from the Brick Oven Pizzeria deck in downtown Crested Butte, out to Strand Hill and Deer Creek, back to the deck, then 403/401 (aka 804) via Slate River Road and our version of L'alp Duez - and there is still a lot of snow up there - back to the deck, and finally a 27 mile crusher to the Dyke Trail before returning for the last time to the deck and eternal glory - or something like that. Climb after climb. On sunday I rode a 65 mile epic to see how I would feel. All things considered it went very well. I am prone to suffer back pain, but that faded after about 30 miles. Setting a sustainable pace and conserving energy for the climbs seemed to make the ride very enjoyable. In fact, after a particularly good charge on Deadman's Gulch and subsequent 30+ switchbacks, I had to reel myself in because I was giddy with excitement and using more energy than I should have on the downhill. Maintaining energy output for steady performance meant forcing myself to eat even when I was not hungry. A waterbottle filled with a recovery beverage was really helpful, I rationed it like it was a life saving elixer and that seemed to help as a carrot of sorts. As far as the metaphor goes, every detail holds deeper meaning and sitting in the saddle for hours on end gives me time to make the connections. Maybe on the surface it means nothing, but with every rotation of the wheels comes a connection to a better understanding of myself and what it takes to become more and better. If that means suffering, drooling, whimpering, and all the aches and pains that come with challenge, it also means elation, ecstacy, and pleasure on the flip side.
Using sports metaphors is one of my downfalls. I can go on and on refrencing athletic endeavors I have never even been a part of in order to try to explain myself. Maybe its the simplest common denominator when it comes to passing ideas. Whatever. Riding a bike has so many metaphors wrapped into its simple rubber-meets-road (or trail) front.
Climbing. To get to a goal, no matter if it is to be a good husband and father or the top of a mountain, one must work hard. With each revolution of the cranks or the planet, its the amount of work you put in that will determine the payoff in the end. I have been driving Katie crazy because I always have tons of little projects eating up my attention instead of putting more into helping prepare for the wedding. I see that pattern a lot with dudes, they ask for a hand in marriage, then just want to show up at the ceremony and have it done with. Fact is, there is a lot to get done and if I want my lady to love me the day we tie the knot, I have to put in the effort that shows her I aim to get to the top of that hill. Tonight we meet with Bill Doricott, the gentleman who will be marrying us, to scout out the Cement Creek Ranch spread. Katie and I have been down to the meadow, but now it is time to lay out the game plan and refine the process. Its like Lance Armstrong taking the time to ride the course of Le Tour before the event. The more familiar we become with the territory the better we will be prepared come the Big Day.
This bike ride, dubbed the Crested Butte Classic, will go from the Brick Oven Pizzeria deck in downtown Crested Butte, out to Strand Hill and Deer Creek, back to the deck, then 403/401 (aka 804) via Slate River Road and our version of L'alp Duez - and there is still a lot of snow up there - back to the deck, and finally a 27 mile crusher to the Dyke Trail before returning for the last time to the deck and eternal glory - or something like that. Climb after climb. On sunday I rode a 65 mile epic to see how I would feel. All things considered it went very well. I am prone to suffer back pain, but that faded after about 30 miles. Setting a sustainable pace and conserving energy for the climbs seemed to make the ride very enjoyable. In fact, after a particularly good charge on Deadman's Gulch and subsequent 30+ switchbacks, I had to reel myself in because I was giddy with excitement and using more energy than I should have on the downhill. Maintaining energy output for steady performance meant forcing myself to eat even when I was not hungry. A waterbottle filled with a recovery beverage was really helpful, I rationed it like it was a life saving elixer and that seemed to help as a carrot of sorts. As far as the metaphor goes, every detail holds deeper meaning and sitting in the saddle for hours on end gives me time to make the connections. Maybe on the surface it means nothing, but with every rotation of the wheels comes a connection to a better understanding of myself and what it takes to become more and better. If that means suffering, drooling, whimpering, and all the aches and pains that come with challenge, it also means elation, ecstacy, and pleasure on the flip side.
1 Comments:
I am so happy for you and so proud of you.
Congrats.
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