My Friend, Pain

"Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”
- Lance Armstrong


It’s funny, really, what draws me to cycling. Despite all the thrilling and adrenaline pumping aspects of the sport, it is the hardships of cycling that attract me the most. For example, during the work week, when I am doing my cross training and anticipating my next weekend ride, I am not thinking about the views of the bay, or the people I'll meet. I don't imagine the forest rides accompanied by the fresh smell of Eucalyptus, Red Wood and Pine. I don't even consider the harrowing, thrilling, 40 to 50 mph descents into the valley. Instead, I think of the climbs. I think of the long, hard ascents when my will's rubber band is stretched to the maximum; when every fiber of my body is screaming at me to stop. It is at that time I'm left with a choice: I can back off and rest or I can press forward and work harder, forcing my body to function despite the suffering and anguish.

Now, I'm not talking about pain resulting from physical injury- that is another beast all together. I am not encouraging cyclists to outright ignore physical pain. It sounds cliché, but one must learn to listen to his/her body. Instead, the pain I speak of is when you have exceeded your V02 max or have far surpassed your lactate threshold. Either your body can't distribute enough oxygen into your blood stream, or the lactic acid in your quads and hamstrings have accumulated to the point that your muscles start to cramp, shooting sharp pains up and down your legs. The pain is so intense it can bring tears to your eyes. Your muscles are like squeezed lemons: drained and empty.

But with this hardship comes opportunity. It is at this moment a person has the chance to test one's core character and mental strength. Its a little crash course in 'self-knowledge,' per se. You'll find out how much will power you possess, and how mentally disciplined you are to tune out the pain and focus on the mission at hand. Many questions are answered in these times of prolonged physical suffering. How far are you willing to push yourself? How long will your body go before it absolutely slams on the breaks? What are your physical limitations? What exactly are you made of: bon bons and lace? Or, do you have a bit more substance down there in that soul of yours? The Russian born, high-altitude Mountaineer, Anatoli Boukreev describes it this way: "Men and women are judged not for what they have or where they come from, but who they are in hard circumstances."

It is an opportunity for self definition doesn't come easily. This opportunity doesn't present itself while lounging in front of the TV eating Ben and Jerrys. You can't order it from a drive-thru. Rather, it comes after many hours and miles of riding. It comes with a certain level of commitment. You have spent long periods of time on the saddle, demanding your body to continually produce, neglecting it from rest and relaxation. Fatigue begins building up. Your body is starved of the necessary fluids and fuel and rest that are needed to operate and function naturally and comfortably. 'Comfortable' is the operative word here. It is an opposite of pain. It is the opposite of what you are doing and pursuing. Welcome to the pain game, my friend.

Riding Log

Route: Alpine Dam Loop.
Length: 55 miles.
Time: 3:58 hours
Avg Speed: 14.1 mph
Total Climbed: 5200 feet

It was an unusually hot weekend in the bay area. I'm glad I got a 7am start. I rode hard- and paid for it. I had had a difficult swim the morning before, so I wasn't riding on fresh legs. Thus, I started cramping on my first long climb. I worked through it though and feel good about my overall output.

Besides the heat, I had a few other obstacles. Both my derailleurs started acting up. My rear derailleur was hyper extending, throwing my chain off the cog, and my front derailleur wouldn't let me get into my big ring. I was forced to spend some time on the sidelines making the necessary adjustments.

Also, the bees and horse flies were out with a vengeance yesterday (perhaps it was the heat). Wicked little bastards. Got bit twice on my leg (which drew blood), and had a few fly down my jersey and one into my helmet. On the climbs they were circling me like blood thirsty vultures.

I'm feeling in good form- finally. Looking forward to the next challenge.

Interesting cycling article in the Times

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/01/sports/othersports/01cycling.html