In order to solve a problem, it helps to state the problem as clearly and succinctly as you can. So, for example, I might say, “I’m sick of the constant blare of election news,” and then I can make plan to avoid all interactions on-line, in person, etc. with all American human people. See. Solved it.
In the context of cycling, I think I have spent too much time misstating the problem. In other words, I have often wondered why I am not fitter, faster, stronger than I want to be, and as many of my friends appear to be. I have told myself that I am a good climber, but there is abundant evidence that this is not actually the case.
The truth is, I have come to see, I am an entirely average cyclist, even in my best moments.
And you know, that simple description, “average cyclist,” is pretty emancipating. It frees me from the obligation to engage in intervals or hill repeats, except when I feel like it, which is, quite honestly, almost never. I don’t have to be epic or fast. I don’t have to hang tight on long climbs or take extra long pulls on the front of pacelines that are beyond my abilities.
I might be a better rider if I was more consistent, but my life doesn’t seem to allow for much consistency in this regard. I seldom have more than an hour of free time. And those hours don’t always come with the requisite motivation. That’s ok. I’m average.
This week’s Group Ride, asks you to describe yourself as a cyclist in 3 words or less. Tell us what those words mean for the way you ride, for when you ride and how you do it. Some of you are hammers. I know you are. Some of you are lollygaggers. I don’t even know what that means, but I know it’s true.