To get from my home out to better places to cycle I often ride the Minuteman Bike Trail. This trail runs from Somerville to Bedford. There has been a lot of commentary about trail use – pointing fingers at cyclists for going too fast, rollerbladers for talking up too much room, and walkers for not paying attention – seems like everyone has a beef about the trail. However, this piece is neither about trail use nor a forum for whining about trail etiquette.
Riding the trail allows me to experience the cycles of the seasons. There are stretches of woodlands and meadows. There are wild herbs that grow along the sides. There is wild life that inhabits the surrounding area. Given that the trail runs through cities and suburbs, it is quite a microcosm of nature.
Right now the last few leaves have fallen off the trees. The winter is perhaps the only season where you can clearly see the sky from the trail, as the trees create a thick canopy during the rest of the year. The colors are various shades of grey and white, almost as if you were looking at a black and white photo. It is cold, but quieter than the bustling summer. The light is weak and by 4:30 PM it is pitch dark on the trail. When the snow flies, much of the trail will be impassable on a road bicycle. (They don’t plow the whole thing which is really too bad.)
I find the spring most exciting on the trail. My favorite pagan holiday is Imbolc which celebrates the new growth under the snow. When that new growth starts peaking through and the energy of spring is in the air, I feel newly alive. The first few times in the spring when I ride the trail, I enjoy the efforts of the plants coming up through the last of the snow. It is a messy time – wet and muddy, but it is a harbinger of the beginning of biking season and the promise of warmer biker friendly weather to come. The buds start to form on the trees creating a sense of expectation. There is a new life on the trail.
The summer is the most active time on the trail. The leaves of the trees create a canopy which provides welcomed shade to users. There are squirrels and chipmunks that scamper across the trail trying to avoid being run over by the cyclists. I once saw a doe and two fawns on the trail. In parts of the trail there are berries that people pick and herbs that they collect. It is a time of fullness and abundance.
A sadness comes over me when autumn starts to set in. The leaves change from green to bright orange, yellow and red. The colors are brilliant and sometimes you can look out and see a landscape on fire with color. The leaves fall onto the trail creating a difficult and dangerous surface for cyclists. The landscape changes again and winter returns, only to yield to spring in a few months, and thus the cycle continues.
Riding the trail through the seasons reminds me that we live in cycles. There are the cycles of the seasons, but also the cycles of our lives. I am in the autumn of my life. I am forty-seven years old and I am noticing changes that come with age. I am also aware of benefits of my experience and tend to appreciate the wisdom of it. My father is in the winter of his life and although I grieve his decline, I also know that the cycle of life is unavoidable. There are also smaller cycles in our lives, such as the cycling season.
The cycling season, has its cycle, that in this New England area, reflects the cycles of the seasons. Winter for base miles, spring starts more intense training, summer for racing and then fall ends the season with a return to base miles in preparation for the next round. There is something comforting to this predictable progression, and for me there is hope. Last summer I was teaching bicycle riding and was too busy to train well. So, I abandoned my racing goals and had a full summer of teaching (which also runs in cycles!). Now that we are back at the beginning of the cycle, I get to reassess and reconsider my goals and start over if I want.
However, just because cycles repeat themselves, does not mean they are the same for us. The good news is that we are human and that we grow and learn. Each year brings new growth and change, and although the season may look the same we are not. Change is the only constant. It is more like a spiral. We are at the same x coordinate, but have moved on the y. (If you didn’t get that don’t worry.) In other words, we are starting a cycle over but with all the experience we have gained from the previous ones. So, as I ride the Minuteman I am aware of the fact that I am not the same cyclist I was last year and I will not be the same next year as well. I have the potential to grow and hopefully become a stronger rider. Each season has its joys and difficulties, but if we wait we can be assured that these will change, as cycles do.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Reflection on the Meanings of Kits
I am a roadie and almost always ride in a kit. The most important reason for this is that cycling clothes are comfortable and utilitarian. I need the back pockets in my jersey to put my pump, inflator, snacks, and asthma inhaler. I store the clothing I end up shedding mid-ride there as well. The tights or shorts have a chamois which helps with saddle soreness and wick sweat away. Although I did want to point out that wearing a kit is sensible, this piece is not meant to be an advertisement for cycling duds. Instead, I wanted to reflect on what wearing a kit means.
I started out curious about why it is called a “kit.” I found out that the terms us mainly used in the UK for “the particular clothing worn by a sports team.” I couldn’t find the etymology of that specific meaning although kit as referred to that of "outfit of tools for a workman" is from 1851. Before I was a cyclist I had never heard the word kit used in that way.
When I wear a kit, regardless of which one, I am saying, I belong to the clan of cyclists. When I am in my kit other cyclists (also in kits) nod or say hello. If I am stopped for some reason, inevitably another cyclist will stop to find out if I need help. There is a sense that cyclist will look out for each other. I have helped many other cyclists mostly with changing flats and providing extra tubes. There is a sense of community among road cyclist and the kit is the uniform.
Now specific kits convey certain information about me and my associations. For instance, I belong to two clubs and obviously each club has a kit. This can be awkward at times for me. I was wearing the kit of one club and a member of the other saw me and was aghast. Now there are good reasons why I belong to two. The club I started with is like a family to me however, that club doesn’t have a developed woman’s program. When I decided to try to race, I wanted a club with a well established women’s program, so I joined the second one. But wearing the kit is saying I belong to this one and eyebrows are raised when you have two. However, I am used to this, being mixed-heritage Asian American. I have always felt I travelled in two worlds (at least).
I also have a kit from Stanford where I got my MA, as well as kits from rides I have done. These kits also elicit reactions from other cyclists. I was wearing my Stanford kit when another alumnae came up to me and started asking about my experiences there. There is a way that the kit creates connection among cyclists and communicates belonging not only to the sport but to specific organizations.
I want my kit to express me. It is, in part, a “fashion” statement. I like my Japanese cherry blossom kit because it reflects my Japanese heritage. I also like my “Wild Things” kit with the monsters on it from the Shel Silverstein book The Wild Things. It reflects my playful side and the fact that I read that book a zillion times when my daughter was young.
However, the kit is not unproblematic as an outfit. It is spandex and tight. I don’t usually mind this, however I can feel like I am being objectified, especially by those outside the cycling community. I have had guys in a truck suck their teeth at me while I was on my bike and men whistle or come up and try to talk with me. It is an issue I will explore more in another piece, but it makes me uncomfortable at times and scared at others. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to worry about this, but in this one I do.
Overall, however the kit is not only utilitarian but also a communication – about belonging, about association, about connection, and about personality
I started out curious about why it is called a “kit.” I found out that the terms us mainly used in the UK for “the particular clothing worn by a sports team.” I couldn’t find the etymology of that specific meaning although kit as referred to that of "outfit of tools for a workman" is from 1851. Before I was a cyclist I had never heard the word kit used in that way.
When I wear a kit, regardless of which one, I am saying, I belong to the clan of cyclists. When I am in my kit other cyclists (also in kits) nod or say hello. If I am stopped for some reason, inevitably another cyclist will stop to find out if I need help. There is a sense that cyclist will look out for each other. I have helped many other cyclists mostly with changing flats and providing extra tubes. There is a sense of community among road cyclist and the kit is the uniform.
Now specific kits convey certain information about me and my associations. For instance, I belong to two clubs and obviously each club has a kit. This can be awkward at times for me. I was wearing the kit of one club and a member of the other saw me and was aghast. Now there are good reasons why I belong to two. The club I started with is like a family to me however, that club doesn’t have a developed woman’s program. When I decided to try to race, I wanted a club with a well established women’s program, so I joined the second one. But wearing the kit is saying I belong to this one and eyebrows are raised when you have two. However, I am used to this, being mixed-heritage Asian American. I have always felt I travelled in two worlds (at least).
I also have a kit from Stanford where I got my MA, as well as kits from rides I have done. These kits also elicit reactions from other cyclists. I was wearing my Stanford kit when another alumnae came up to me and started asking about my experiences there. There is a way that the kit creates connection among cyclists and communicates belonging not only to the sport but to specific organizations.
I want my kit to express me. It is, in part, a “fashion” statement. I like my Japanese cherry blossom kit because it reflects my Japanese heritage. I also like my “Wild Things” kit with the monsters on it from the Shel Silverstein book The Wild Things. It reflects my playful side and the fact that I read that book a zillion times when my daughter was young.
However, the kit is not unproblematic as an outfit. It is spandex and tight. I don’t usually mind this, however I can feel like I am being objectified, especially by those outside the cycling community. I have had guys in a truck suck their teeth at me while I was on my bike and men whistle or come up and try to talk with me. It is an issue I will explore more in another piece, but it makes me uncomfortable at times and scared at others. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to worry about this, but in this one I do.
Overall, however the kit is not only utilitarian but also a communication – about belonging, about association, about connection, and about personality
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Body Image or Does My Stomach Stick Out in These Shorts?
I know for myself and a lot of women, and some men too, that body image is a sensitive yet preoccupying issue. Over the course of my life I have been a size 2 and a size 22. I have weighted 118 pounds at my lowest and 220 pounds at my highest. My body has gone through all sorts of changes; however, my view of my body hasn’t changed as much as my body itself.
At my heaviest, I had gained weight in part because of medication that I was taking. I put on about 70 pounds in three months and then kept it on. I was a large woman and very aware of feeling invisible to others. (This came into high relief when I lost some weight and all of a sudden I was much more visible, especially to men.) The prejudice against me as a fat woman made me angry. The media’s tolerance of fat jokes and comments breeds hate and misinformation.
There is the assumption that if you are heavy you somehow are weak or lazy and that you want to be heavy. “Just stop eating” or “Just exercise,” they say, as if you could change your behavior and your metabolism easily by sheer will power. I always want to say, “do you think if I could lose 100 pounds tomorrow, that I wouldn’t already have done that?” Any person’s multitude of reasons for being heavy are complex and often difficult to change. For me, I needed to change my medication and change my exercise habits. I still struggle with eating poorly or bingeing. I am still working on changing these things to improve and maintain my health. .
However, I think the most startling thing is that my body image is still that I am fat. I still feel fat. I know in my head that you can’t be a size 4 and be fat. I know that I would like to lose ten pounds to feel better on the bike, but that doesn’t mean I am fat. In my head I know this, but I still look in the mirror and see a fat body. This distortion causes me distress. It is also annoying to those who are heavy and see a thin person moaning about being fat. I remember feeling really angry when a normal weight woman would moan and groan about how she had to lose weight and the diet she was on and how fat she was, when I could see that at her 110 pounds she was fine and at my 220 I was not. However, I understand now that the pain of feeling fat, at whatever weight, is real.
This image of ourselves is supported by multimillion dollar companies that want to convince us that we need their products to lose weight. It is supported by the media that gives us anorexic models who look like teenagers as the ideal woman. It is supported by American culture that says you have to be thin and young to be successful. We can’t get away from messages that tell us that we have to be thin and that you can’t be thin enough. No wonder so many of us have distorted images of ourselves and unrealistic ideas about how we should look and what our ideal weight should be.
Now as a cyclist, I am trying to look at my weight and eating in order to improve my performance. It is hard to move away from the knee jerk of “I have to lose weight to look better and do that I have to stop eating” to “I have to eat more when I ride, less at night, and try to lose some weight so I can climb better.” It’s hard to not feel bad about feeling fat. It is hard to feel that my body is strong and capable, despite the evidence. Sometimes, I look down at my legs, which are quite muscular, and have the sense they belong to someone else.
I know that my task is to be able to “own” my own body. I know I need to see it more realistically and work on the areas that will not only make me healthier, but hopefully a stronger rider. I also know that a radical change in perspective takes time and is gradual—like the changes in seasons, when the crocuses push their blooms through the snow, promising that spring is coming.
At my heaviest, I had gained weight in part because of medication that I was taking. I put on about 70 pounds in three months and then kept it on. I was a large woman and very aware of feeling invisible to others. (This came into high relief when I lost some weight and all of a sudden I was much more visible, especially to men.) The prejudice against me as a fat woman made me angry. The media’s tolerance of fat jokes and comments breeds hate and misinformation.
There is the assumption that if you are heavy you somehow are weak or lazy and that you want to be heavy. “Just stop eating” or “Just exercise,” they say, as if you could change your behavior and your metabolism easily by sheer will power. I always want to say, “do you think if I could lose 100 pounds tomorrow, that I wouldn’t already have done that?” Any person’s multitude of reasons for being heavy are complex and often difficult to change. For me, I needed to change my medication and change my exercise habits. I still struggle with eating poorly or bingeing. I am still working on changing these things to improve and maintain my health. .
However, I think the most startling thing is that my body image is still that I am fat. I still feel fat. I know in my head that you can’t be a size 4 and be fat. I know that I would like to lose ten pounds to feel better on the bike, but that doesn’t mean I am fat. In my head I know this, but I still look in the mirror and see a fat body. This distortion causes me distress. It is also annoying to those who are heavy and see a thin person moaning about being fat. I remember feeling really angry when a normal weight woman would moan and groan about how she had to lose weight and the diet she was on and how fat she was, when I could see that at her 110 pounds she was fine and at my 220 I was not. However, I understand now that the pain of feeling fat, at whatever weight, is real.
This image of ourselves is supported by multimillion dollar companies that want to convince us that we need their products to lose weight. It is supported by the media that gives us anorexic models who look like teenagers as the ideal woman. It is supported by American culture that says you have to be thin and young to be successful. We can’t get away from messages that tell us that we have to be thin and that you can’t be thin enough. No wonder so many of us have distorted images of ourselves and unrealistic ideas about how we should look and what our ideal weight should be.
Now as a cyclist, I am trying to look at my weight and eating in order to improve my performance. It is hard to move away from the knee jerk of “I have to lose weight to look better and do that I have to stop eating” to “I have to eat more when I ride, less at night, and try to lose some weight so I can climb better.” It’s hard to not feel bad about feeling fat. It is hard to feel that my body is strong and capable, despite the evidence. Sometimes, I look down at my legs, which are quite muscular, and have the sense they belong to someone else.
I know that my task is to be able to “own” my own body. I know I need to see it more realistically and work on the areas that will not only make me healthier, but hopefully a stronger rider. I also know that a radical change in perspective takes time and is gradual—like the changes in seasons, when the crocuses push their blooms through the snow, promising that spring is coming.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Harbor to the Bay -- Made It 2008!
It was a beautiful day on September 20th for the Harbor to the Bay ride for AIDS. It started early for me – I was up at 3:45 AM getting ready to get to Trinity Church in Copley Square at 5:00 AM in order to check-in and eat breakfast. It was dark and COLD but thankfully no rain. I had on many layers – long tights over my shorts, two pairs of socks, liner gloves, a headband, arm-warmers. a vest, and a jacket. Still, I was cold. My bike was clean and lubed and ready to go.
We had a good breakfast at the church and opening ceremonies were around 6:15 and we rolled out of the church around 6:30 to start the ride. It was cloudy. When we riding by the University of Massachusetts Boston, the sun started to come through the clouds creating rays of light. It was quite beautiful, although the skies didn’t really clear until mid-day (at which point I shed some of my layers).
I was riding with my friend Andi, a friend of hers Lee, and a friend of his Bob. Overall, we were well matched in terms of speed and riding style. It was fun to ride with others and be able to draft and work together. (This wasn’t possible in the rain last year.)
There were seven pit stops along the way, with snacks and water and the all important porta-potties. We had lunch at the Sagamore Bridge and then walked over the bridge to the cape.
The riding on the cape was quite beautiful for the most part. Toward the end, we rode on a lovely bike path that was flat. This was a welcome break before we hit the hills at Truro. Last year, I remembered those hills as being so difficult. We had a horrible headwind and since we had ridden in the rain, we were wet, cold, and tired. So I was dreading this portion of the ride. Although I wouldn’t call the hills easy, they were not as horrible as I had remembered. This year we had no wind to speak of and the sun on our backs. I was riding with Bob and we blasted up the hills much to my surprise. Finally, we could see Provincetown and the ocean. What a sight after such a long ride. We made it to the motel where all the riders and crew congregated before we all rode into Provincetown together.
Moving Violations, the women’s motorcycle group who so wonderfully supported the ride, led the way as we rode into Provincetown. People on the street cheered us and shouted their appreciation of our cause and efforts. We arrived at the Boatslip for closing ceremonies and dinner. Although I was tired, I felt good about the ride.
Thank you for those of you who contributed to my fundraising. If you still want to contribute you can until the beginning of November. You can do so online by going to my Harbor to the Bay homepage: https://www.harbortothebay.org/personalpage.asp?ID=618. Or if you prefer, you can download a form and send in your donation by going to harbortothebay.org and clicking on “donate” from the menu on the left of the page. I am rider #130. Unlike many charity events where a percentage of the money raised goes to overhead, in this ride a 100% of the funds go directly to the service and research organizations.
Thank you to all my friends and family for supporting me in all the myriad of ways that you do. I would not be able to do this without the support I get from all of you. I am glad that you share this cycling adventure with me.
We had a good breakfast at the church and opening ceremonies were around 6:15 and we rolled out of the church around 6:30 to start the ride. It was cloudy. When we riding by the University of Massachusetts Boston, the sun started to come through the clouds creating rays of light. It was quite beautiful, although the skies didn’t really clear until mid-day (at which point I shed some of my layers).
I was riding with my friend Andi, a friend of hers Lee, and a friend of his Bob. Overall, we were well matched in terms of speed and riding style. It was fun to ride with others and be able to draft and work together. (This wasn’t possible in the rain last year.)
There were seven pit stops along the way, with snacks and water and the all important porta-potties. We had lunch at the Sagamore Bridge and then walked over the bridge to the cape.
The riding on the cape was quite beautiful for the most part. Toward the end, we rode on a lovely bike path that was flat. This was a welcome break before we hit the hills at Truro. Last year, I remembered those hills as being so difficult. We had a horrible headwind and since we had ridden in the rain, we were wet, cold, and tired. So I was dreading this portion of the ride. Although I wouldn’t call the hills easy, they were not as horrible as I had remembered. This year we had no wind to speak of and the sun on our backs. I was riding with Bob and we blasted up the hills much to my surprise. Finally, we could see Provincetown and the ocean. What a sight after such a long ride. We made it to the motel where all the riders and crew congregated before we all rode into Provincetown together.
Moving Violations, the women’s motorcycle group who so wonderfully supported the ride, led the way as we rode into Provincetown. People on the street cheered us and shouted their appreciation of our cause and efforts. We arrived at the Boatslip for closing ceremonies and dinner. Although I was tired, I felt good about the ride.
Thank you for those of you who contributed to my fundraising. If you still want to contribute you can until the beginning of November. You can do so online by going to my Harbor to the Bay homepage: https://www.harbortothebay.org/personalpage.asp?ID=618. Or if you prefer, you can download a form and send in your donation by going to harbortothebay.org and clicking on “donate” from the menu on the left of the page. I am rider #130. Unlike many charity events where a percentage of the money raised goes to overhead, in this ride a 100% of the funds go directly to the service and research organizations.
Thank you to all my friends and family for supporting me in all the myriad of ways that you do. I would not be able to do this without the support I get from all of you. I am glad that you share this cycling adventure with me.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
In the Balance:My Trek to the Cape
Well, I am on the bus writing this long-hand which I will later type into the computer at home. Yesterday I rode from Boston to Cape Cod – 104 mile trek with my friend Andi. She lives on the Cape so we have a lovely destination.
I haven’t been doing as much riding as I need to be doing to prepare for the Harbor to the Bay AID ride on September 20th. (I have been busy teaching riding.) So, I was a bit worried about this ride which was about 30 miles shorter than the September ride but still over a hundred miles.
In fact, I hadn’t ridden in over a week and a half. I took nothing but my riding gear (stuff to change tires, phone etc.), a pair of underwear in a plastic bag, and a folding toothbrush. I was worried I would poop out after fifty miles. I was also worried that it would rain.
As luck would have it, the weather held until we got to Andi’s home, showered and were making dinner. We were blessed and probably the fact that we both carried all of our rain gear in case helped too.
At about mile 75 I was quite tired but a stop and ice cream helped me push through it and I felt better than I had expected to all in all. We made a few substantial stops and ate a ton. For instance, we had second breakfast! This is so unusual for me who doesn’t even eat first breakfast half the time. Even with the stops, we got there around 5:00 PM having averaged close to 14 mph.
I know the intense training I did early in season in preparation to race, paid off even thought I had been off the bike for over a week (except for short – very short – rides to and from the Bicycle Riding School). It made me away that my overall fitness is pretty good.
My partner recently commented that we tend to take our fitness and riding ability for granted. I think he is right.
I was recently in the market talking to another riding friend and telling her I was worried about the Harbor to the Bay ride. She said, “Pata you know in your heart you could do that ride tomorrow if you had to.” I thought about it concluded that she is right.
However, this has not always been the case for me. (At one point I was 220 pounds and very out of shape.) I feel lucky to have found “exercise” that I love and that feeds my soul. I have to remember that I am blessed in this regard and that not everyone enjoys health in the same way I do at this moment. I need to remember that although this level of fitness requires work, the payoffs are great in terms of my emotional, physical and spiritual well being.
In the next six weeks before the ride and thereafter I need to make more time to ride. I owe it to myself. It keeps me balanced and although it is easy at times to get imbalanced and stressed out trying to meet the demands of others – it is worth the effort to create a balanced life with time for myself and my bike.
I haven’t been doing as much riding as I need to be doing to prepare for the Harbor to the Bay AID ride on September 20th. (I have been busy teaching riding.) So, I was a bit worried about this ride which was about 30 miles shorter than the September ride but still over a hundred miles.
In fact, I hadn’t ridden in over a week and a half. I took nothing but my riding gear (stuff to change tires, phone etc.), a pair of underwear in a plastic bag, and a folding toothbrush. I was worried I would poop out after fifty miles. I was also worried that it would rain.
As luck would have it, the weather held until we got to Andi’s home, showered and were making dinner. We were blessed and probably the fact that we both carried all of our rain gear in case helped too.
At about mile 75 I was quite tired but a stop and ice cream helped me push through it and I felt better than I had expected to all in all. We made a few substantial stops and ate a ton. For instance, we had second breakfast! This is so unusual for me who doesn’t even eat first breakfast half the time. Even with the stops, we got there around 5:00 PM having averaged close to 14 mph.
I know the intense training I did early in season in preparation to race, paid off even thought I had been off the bike for over a week (except for short – very short – rides to and from the Bicycle Riding School). It made me away that my overall fitness is pretty good.
My partner recently commented that we tend to take our fitness and riding ability for granted. I think he is right.
I was recently in the market talking to another riding friend and telling her I was worried about the Harbor to the Bay ride. She said, “Pata you know in your heart you could do that ride tomorrow if you had to.” I thought about it concluded that she is right.
However, this has not always been the case for me. (At one point I was 220 pounds and very out of shape.) I feel lucky to have found “exercise” that I love and that feeds my soul. I have to remember that I am blessed in this regard and that not everyone enjoys health in the same way I do at this moment. I need to remember that although this level of fitness requires work, the payoffs are great in terms of my emotional, physical and spiritual well being.
In the next six weeks before the ride and thereafter I need to make more time to ride. I owe it to myself. It keeps me balanced and although it is easy at times to get imbalanced and stressed out trying to meet the demands of others – it is worth the effort to create a balanced life with time for myself and my bike.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Mt. Wachusetts "Hill" Climb
Here I am on the top of Mount Wachusetts. We were whimps and drove to base of the mountain and then rode up it. (Instead of riding the fifty miles to the mountain and fifty home.) The mountain was a good climbing (and descending) challenge and we were there before the road was open to car traffic on Memorial Day. I made it up the mountain, but there were times that I really wished I was on the Luna which had the triple!
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Bicycle Riding School Faculty at Work
Here Susan and I are working on fixing knee and elbow pads for our beginning riding students. Part of teaching riding is maintaining the fleet of bicycles as well as the equipment. Luckily, we work well together and have some fun in the process.
Teaching Bicycle Riding
One of the things I do is teach beginners to ride bicycles. The students are mostly adults who, for a variety of reasons, never learned to ride a bicycle. I work with a Susan who has taught over 2000 people over the course of twenty years. It is amazing and humbling work in many ways.
It has made me think about riding differently in that I have had to articulate what, at this point in my life, comes naturally. It is a complex maneuver to start riding a bicycle from a stopped position. Not only do you have to push a pedal down but you have to kick off with the other foot and hold the handle bars steady. This is not an easy task for a new learner, especially if it is an uphill start.
Probably my most important task in teaching a new bicycle rider is to encourage and coach. Usually, there are reasons why an adult didn’t learn and often this is accompanied by fear. So, I do a lot of cheering and singing and yelling, “way to go!” I also teach students how to balance on a bicycle, use their pedals, change gears, stand up, look around, remove one hand from the bars, and hold their line.
I do more advanced teaching of pace-line skills with a women’s ride I help lead, but it is the beginners who are the most rewarding. Often they feel like learning to ride changes their life. They feel accomplished and many times they have overcome fear and embarrassment to do so. I am blessed to be able to share this process with them.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Lantern Rider
I got up at 5AM and left the house around 6:30 to ride to my first race. It was a crit – which just means it was a course that goes around and around. Fifteen laps to be exact, each lap just under a mile. I went to my parent’s house which is about five minutes from the course to use the facilities (there are none at the race site) and to shed some of the warmer clothing I had needed so early in the morning.
As I entered the race course, I looked over to the woods and out came a coyote. He looked me straight in the eye and I passed him on my bicycle and he went along his way. Coyote is one of my animal totems and I felt like he was saying, “Don’t take the race or yourself too seriously, girl! See the humor and have some fun.”
I was one of the first people to show and rode around the course a couple of times. A few other women riders who I knew arrived and we rode the course together. This actually was a mistake for me. I had already warmed up by riding to the race and I just tired myself out a bit by doing more laps. Oh well, live and learn.
The race started a bit past 8:30 and we were off. I was with the pack but toward the back, which isn’t a great place to be. There was one woman who was squirrelly and unfortunately I was behind her. Around the second or third lap she almost crashed into another rider and to avoid getting involved in a crash, I had to go around them. As luck would have it, neither of them went down. But I was separated from the pack and never got back on. So, I rode most of the race time trial style, by myself.
At one point, I passed a fellow team mate who was struggling. I told her to get on my wheel and tried to pull her so she could rest. She couldn’t stay on and eventually abandoned the race.
At the very end, one of the team coaches came up and gave me a lead out to the sprint. I, being quite befuddled, wasn’t sure on which side to sprint past her and end up sort of muddled it up. (Turns out the side didn’t matter.) But I sprinted to the finish in the end.
I was determined to finish the race even if it meant I was going 5 mph (which I didn’t). I did finish and not everyone did. I was the last rider who finished. And lo and behold I got a prize. They call the last rider the lantern rider. That would be me.
I learned a lot in this race. I went into it knowing that this kind of race wouldn’t be my strength. I do better when there is terrain and some hills. But I learned that riding too much before the race isn’t a good idea; that starting as close to the front as you can IS a good idea; that you have to watch out for the squirrelly rider and stay way; and that I am a team player. In the end, it was a nice Mother’s Day gift to myself.
Monday, May 5, 2008
The Season is Upon Us (or Making Goals)
Beltane (May Day) just occurred reminding us that spring is here in full force. The weather in
For me, it is a time to really focus on my intentions for cycling this season. What do I want to accomplish? What seeds do I want to plant and what do I need to do to grow them?
Now deciding what I want to do and figuring out how to manifest my intentions are not easy tasks for me. It feels like there are so many options and possibilities, which is a good thing in that I am not limited, but it also creates a problem of choice. What races and rides do I want to do? How do I want to shape my training at this point? What are my racing and riding goals?
I know I need some short term goals and some long term ones. I know I need to think progressively. I know also I need to think holistically about the balance in my life and the things I need to do to be the best athlete I can – things like eat better and lose that ten pounds that is hanging around my middle.
I have a few short term goals. I’d like to try to do the
I have a few long term goals too but at this point they are a little unfocussed. I want to do two or three road races this season, although I am still not sure which ones. I think I am going to do a charity ride at the end of the season, which is over 100 miles. I may want to do one other century. There is a hilly one in July that might be a good choice. Obviously, I need to get clearer on these goals and then figure out the steps I need to get there.
I have been living in the moment in terms of my cycling, just figuring out what the next best thing to do is and doing it. Although in some ways this isn’t a bad approach, at this point I need more long-term clarity. I know it will be worth the investment to develop a specific plan, even if it evolves over time. So, I will make this my priority and my first short term goal and see what unfolds.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Bicycles as a Way of Life
Right now just about everything I do revolves around my bicycle. This is not a bad thing, although it is different for me. Over the past couple of years the bike has gained more and more prominence in my life, but now it has consumed it. It is not that I am unhappy about this turn of events – it is just interesting to note.
I am currently, training to race, riding for fun, teaching beginner adults how to ride and helping to lead a weekly women’s ride. I recently took a racing clinic that taught me the basic techniques and strategies of racing. I joined a Cat. 4 women’s racing team. It seems that I am either riding, preparing to ride, talking about riding or rides, teaching folks how to ride, or doing all the laundry generated by riding.
I am feeling like the thing I need to do now is really consider what my goals are for the season in relation to racing, riding, and my relationship with bicycles. I would like to do a few road races and am at the point where I have to decide which ones and how to prepare for them. I am considering doing a charity ride in September. I think I want to do at least one century ride in addition to the charity ride which is 125 miles in a day. I need to make a clearer training plan for the season. I also want to do some work on my bicycle. I need to change the cassette and chain. I’d like to do that myself with the help of my partner. I am also taking some classes to become certified in bicycle safety so I could teach that as well.
To everything there is a season. For me, now is bicycle season. I am learning and growing in many ways right now. I am challenging myself physically and emotionally with the racing. I am giving back to the community by teaching and leading rides. I am learning new things. I know though, if I lose the joy in cycling then it is time to reassess, for that is ultimately why I do all this. I love it. I love cycling. I love teaching. I love learning. Who would have thought that I would fall in love with a two wheeled machine?
The picture is of me in my new team kit. Although I like the design, all the red, white, and blue makes me feel like Little Miss Asian America! Yay for diversity!
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Inch by Inch: Making Changes
One thing that starting training has done is pushed me to address health issues in a different way. I realized that I had to be more aggressive with my approach. No longer could I just ignore my asthma or knee pain. No longer could I not deal with the fact that I eat poorly. I had to figure out how to approach my health in a more mindful way.
So, I started by making some appointments. I made an appointment with my doctor for the asthma. I made an appointment with my physical therapist to address my knee pain. I also made an appointment with a yoga teacher to improve my balance (both physical and emotional) and to teach me some stretches.
I have been slowly figuring out how to feed myself. I have started by committing to eating breakfast which is actually quite hard for me. I hate to eat in the morning and my medication kills my apatite at that time of day. As with any change in ones habits, there are many steps. I have to figure out what I would be willing to eat; I have to purchase it; I have to prepare it (if necessary), and I have to eat it.
I have learned that to make fundamental changes, I have to do them slowly and deliberately. I have to remember that change is a process and that it probably, won’t all happen at once. I have to be patient and compassionate with myself, because making real change is hard.
There are many changes I need to make in my eating habits, as well as my health maintenance – I need to take my asthma medication consistently, I need to do my knee exercises everyday, I need to do more yoga, I need to eat more when I ride and less at night – but I know that I can’t change everything all at once. I work on making small changes and improvements and realize that progress is happening.
I have also learned that being gentle with myself is more helpful than being a drill sergeant. My inner child doesn’t respond well to condemnation and judgment. So, I am working on being encouraging if I goof up. As my mother used to say, “Tomorrow is another day.”
So, I started by making some appointments. I made an appointment with my doctor for the asthma. I made an appointment with my physical therapist to address my knee pain. I also made an appointment with a yoga teacher to improve my balance (both physical and emotional) and to teach me some stretches.
I have been slowly figuring out how to feed myself. I have started by committing to eating breakfast which is actually quite hard for me. I hate to eat in the morning and my medication kills my apatite at that time of day. As with any change in ones habits, there are many steps. I have to figure out what I would be willing to eat; I have to purchase it; I have to prepare it (if necessary), and I have to eat it.
I have learned that to make fundamental changes, I have to do them slowly and deliberately. I have to remember that change is a process and that it probably, won’t all happen at once. I have to be patient and compassionate with myself, because making real change is hard.
There are many changes I need to make in my eating habits, as well as my health maintenance – I need to take my asthma medication consistently, I need to do my knee exercises everyday, I need to do more yoga, I need to eat more when I ride and less at night – but I know that I can’t change everything all at once. I work on making small changes and improvements and realize that progress is happening.
I have also learned that being gentle with myself is more helpful than being a drill sergeant. My inner child doesn’t respond well to condemnation and judgment. So, I am working on being encouraging if I goof up. As my mother used to say, “Tomorrow is another day.”
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Bicycle Nuts
This is our kitchen. This is our kitchen with all our bicycles in it. It has the good ones, the commuters, the frame that is being repainted and built up as the "art bike" and the hybrid on the trainer.
Folks who are not into bicycles look at this and shake their heads. Why would you need so many bikes? Well, first, different bikes are good for different purposes. My partner has a commuter bike that is a work horse. It has lights and fenders for the weather, unlike his good road bikes which he saves for fair weather and long rides. If I am riding a long hilly distance I take my light Fuji Supreme RC which flies up the hills. So each bike has its place and purpose.
Also, bikes are like friends. The bike you choose to ride will depend on what mood you are in and what you are planning to do. For instance, when I want to ride a bike with soul I ride my red Luna. It was hand-made by a woman in New Mexico who only makes bikes for women. Of all the bikes I have this is the one with the most soul.
Each bike feels different and handles differently depending on many factors including the frame material, the components, the geometry etc... So riding each one is a unique experience.
In our kitchen we have a weight bench, a bike shop area, and the trainer. We have no table and chairs or pot racks. The counter, sink, and stove are on one side and serve their functions, but the rest of the room belongs to the bicycle. We have our priorities!
The Goddess of the Kitchen Flat
My first flat tire was in the kitchen. I had ridden a number of miles and was home and my partner felt my tire. "You have a flat!" he says. Now at that time those words scared me and I wasn't sure exactly what to do; however, I managed to fix it with help. I was very lucky that the flat was not on an isolated road in Concord in the pouring rain. I had the luxury of practicing how to fix a flat in the comfort of my own kitchen.
The funny thing is that the next flat I got was also in the kitchen. As was the next and the next. I have been blessed by the kitchen flat goddess. Then my partner had a couple of kitchen flats too. It was like the bicycles waited until we got home to flat.
I am grateful for the kitchen flats, not only because I now feel I could relatively easily change a flat on an isolated road in the pouring rain, but because I think that the Universe does watch over me.
The funny thing is that the next flat I got was also in the kitchen. As was the next and the next. I have been blessed by the kitchen flat goddess. Then my partner had a couple of kitchen flats too. It was like the bicycles waited until we got home to flat.
I am grateful for the kitchen flats, not only because I now feel I could relatively easily change a flat on an isolated road in the pouring rain, but because I think that the Universe does watch over me.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Pushing Through Depression
I have struggled with depression for much of my life. Now is no exception. Anyone who has experienced clinical depression knows that it is easy to get overwhelmed and paralyzed when one feels down. It is very hard to get motivated and mobilized to DO anything -- even things that you normally like to do.
My depression is a huge obstacle to my training. There are some days that I can't manage to complete my training regime or can't even get started. And some days, I need to listen to my body and my psyche and take a break and other times I am learning that I need to push through.
I think of new green shoots in spring pushing up through the soil. It looks like growing must be hard work. They are so new and fragile and the soil is so dense. Similarly, when I am depressed I am a fragile being who has to push through the darkness to move.
It was like that yesterday. I was really down and not sure what I could manage to do. I had a yoga lesson scheduled and it was a nice day outside, the first in eons. However, what I felt like doing was crawling into bed and pulling the covers over my head and calling it a day. I decided that it would be better to try to get to yoga even if it meant I cried the whole time. (My teacher is sensitive and supportive and was okay with my mood.) I went to yoga, got out of the house, learned some new poses, and got moving. It took monumental effort to get there. After yoga, I managed to get on the bicycle too. I told myself that I only had to go out for a half hour and if I felt too bad I could turn around. I also knew no one would be looking at me while riding and if I cried no one would notice or care. I ended up riding an hour or so.
Knowing when to push through and when to focus on comfort is critical. I have pushed when it would have been better to just rest. I usually end up feeling worse at those times. But many times, pushing through the darkness allows a little light to come in. I think when I can push myself without judgment and without investment in the outcome, then I do better. If I start and can't finish, well at least I started. Attitude toward how I am pushing through is key. If I can stay gentle and compassionate with myself, then I can challenge myself without the backlash of condemnation should I not be able to do that which I set out to do.
I know this will be an ongoing struggle and staying open, present, and compassionate with myself (and others) is critical to managing those dark times.
My depression is a huge obstacle to my training. There are some days that I can't manage to complete my training regime or can't even get started. And some days, I need to listen to my body and my psyche and take a break and other times I am learning that I need to push through.
I think of new green shoots in spring pushing up through the soil. It looks like growing must be hard work. They are so new and fragile and the soil is so dense. Similarly, when I am depressed I am a fragile being who has to push through the darkness to move.
It was like that yesterday. I was really down and not sure what I could manage to do. I had a yoga lesson scheduled and it was a nice day outside, the first in eons. However, what I felt like doing was crawling into bed and pulling the covers over my head and calling it a day. I decided that it would be better to try to get to yoga even if it meant I cried the whole time. (My teacher is sensitive and supportive and was okay with my mood.) I went to yoga, got out of the house, learned some new poses, and got moving. It took monumental effort to get there. After yoga, I managed to get on the bicycle too. I told myself that I only had to go out for a half hour and if I felt too bad I could turn around. I also knew no one would be looking at me while riding and if I cried no one would notice or care. I ended up riding an hour or so.
Knowing when to push through and when to focus on comfort is critical. I have pushed when it would have been better to just rest. I usually end up feeling worse at those times. But many times, pushing through the darkness allows a little light to come in. I think when I can push myself without judgment and without investment in the outcome, then I do better. If I start and can't finish, well at least I started. Attitude toward how I am pushing through is key. If I can stay gentle and compassionate with myself, then I can challenge myself without the backlash of condemnation should I not be able to do that which I set out to do.
I know this will be an ongoing struggle and staying open, present, and compassionate with myself (and others) is critical to managing those dark times.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Learning to be a Grease Monkey
I know lots of cyclists who don't know how to change a flat. This seems a little foolish to me although part of me understands it. When I was first learning I found it a bit intimidating and frustrating at times. But I was well tutored by my partner.
I was on the bicycle trail last spring and a fellow came by walking his bike with a flat. I asked if he needed a tube. He said that he was almost to his destination. I said, "Do you want to walk or ride?" He decided he wanted to ride so I got out a tube. However, it soon became clear to me that he neither knew how to change his flat nor had the necessary tools. I did it for him which was a lovely reversal in gender roles to boot. While I was changing the tire, he said that he was a commuter. I said, "without a tube?" Enough said. He was on his way in less than ten. He said that he felt bad that he couldn't reimburse me for the tube. I told him to do it for another cyclist. What goes around, comes around.
Knowing how to change a flat not only allows me to rest easy when I am fifty miles out of the city and alone, but it also gives me a sense of self-sufficiency. I can do this one myself. Actually I have learned a lot about maintaining and caring for my bicycle over the last two years. There is a lot I can do myself and even more with a little guidance.
This is also an accomplishment as I am not particularly mechanically inclined. I am good with my hands in a creative way -- I do a lot of art -- but not good at figuring out how stuff works or fixing things. Bicycles are wonderful in that they are relatively simple and elegant. It is usually possible to see how something works and understand the mechanics of it. My partner has helped me work on my bicycles. I have replaced brakes, brake cables, a cassette and a chain. I have changed sets of pedals and adjusted saddles and brakes. I have mounted lights and computers. I also regularly lube my chain and keep the tires well pumped so the bicycles are ready to ride. I kind of like it when my hands are greasy and I am well into a maintenance project. Being a newbie grease monkey suits me.
I like the sense that I can take care of my bicycles and am not at the mercy of a bike shop or in need to someone to help me all the time. It gives me a sense of independence and freedom, which is what the bicycle is all anyway.
I was on the bicycle trail last spring and a fellow came by walking his bike with a flat. I asked if he needed a tube. He said that he was almost to his destination. I said, "Do you want to walk or ride?" He decided he wanted to ride so I got out a tube. However, it soon became clear to me that he neither knew how to change his flat nor had the necessary tools. I did it for him which was a lovely reversal in gender roles to boot. While I was changing the tire, he said that he was a commuter. I said, "without a tube?" Enough said. He was on his way in less than ten. He said that he felt bad that he couldn't reimburse me for the tube. I told him to do it for another cyclist. What goes around, comes around.
Knowing how to change a flat not only allows me to rest easy when I am fifty miles out of the city and alone, but it also gives me a sense of self-sufficiency. I can do this one myself. Actually I have learned a lot about maintaining and caring for my bicycle over the last two years. There is a lot I can do myself and even more with a little guidance.
This is also an accomplishment as I am not particularly mechanically inclined. I am good with my hands in a creative way -- I do a lot of art -- but not good at figuring out how stuff works or fixing things. Bicycles are wonderful in that they are relatively simple and elegant. It is usually possible to see how something works and understand the mechanics of it. My partner has helped me work on my bicycles. I have replaced brakes, brake cables, a cassette and a chain. I have changed sets of pedals and adjusted saddles and brakes. I have mounted lights and computers. I also regularly lube my chain and keep the tires well pumped so the bicycles are ready to ride. I kind of like it when my hands are greasy and I am well into a maintenance project. Being a newbie grease monkey suits me.
I like the sense that I can take care of my bicycles and am not at the mercy of a bike shop or in need to someone to help me all the time. It gives me a sense of independence and freedom, which is what the bicycle is all anyway.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Favorite Pic on the Bike
This is my favorite picture of me on the bike thus far. It is a couple years old so right now I am both a little fatter and a bit more muscular than that picture, but it captures my love of it all. I am riding my first true bicycle love. My red Luna steel frame bicycle. (More on that later.)
Finding the Balance
Well, today I am sick. I have a mild cold and an achy body. I am thankful that it isn't worse, but it has put a crimp in my training schedule. Now being a Virgo this causes a certain amount of consternation. However, it is good for me to, because it reminds me that I have to find the balance.
I realize that I have a lot to learn about in terms of training. I also have to be sure to listen to my body and figure out what is the best training activities and schedule for ME. Not just random jo, but for me in specific. This is challenging on a number of accounts.
First, I am having to learn all the things that go into training and the possible schedules etc... from which I can build my own. This is harder than it looks as there are as many opinions as there are cyclists.
Second, I have never listened to my body this intently before. I have had a tendency to push myself sometimes to my detriment. Now I need to pay attention to whether I am sick or exhausted, because it will influence my ability to train later, as well as my health in the moment.
Third, I have never been good at pacing myself. I tend to dive into things and then swim my way out with the threat of drowning. I have learned over the past few years though, that I do much better if I can take things a step at a time. I am much better at this, assuming that I know which steps I am taking. In this case, there are so many fronts on which to attend, that I can get lost in the process and a bit overwhelmed. I mean I need to pay attention to what I do to train, how I eat, my knee injury, my asthma, my focus and psychology, my mood, my general health, etc. . .
So, I do have my work cut out for me. I know the key for me in this, and in life in general, is finding the BALANCE. If I don't balance my training with my life I will overdo it. If I don't balance strength training with aerobic exercise I won't be at peak performance either. And if I don't balance all of it with my spiritual practice, I won't be grounded in any of it.
So, having a cold today, reminds me that I have to balance things in my training and my life. If I can work on this, I believe that I will be able to face the challenges with more equanimity.
I realize that I have a lot to learn about in terms of training. I also have to be sure to listen to my body and figure out what is the best training activities and schedule for ME. Not just random jo, but for me in specific. This is challenging on a number of accounts.
First, I am having to learn all the things that go into training and the possible schedules etc... from which I can build my own. This is harder than it looks as there are as many opinions as there are cyclists.
Second, I have never listened to my body this intently before. I have had a tendency to push myself sometimes to my detriment. Now I need to pay attention to whether I am sick or exhausted, because it will influence my ability to train later, as well as my health in the moment.
Third, I have never been good at pacing myself. I tend to dive into things and then swim my way out with the threat of drowning. I have learned over the past few years though, that I do much better if I can take things a step at a time. I am much better at this, assuming that I know which steps I am taking. In this case, there are so many fronts on which to attend, that I can get lost in the process and a bit overwhelmed. I mean I need to pay attention to what I do to train, how I eat, my knee injury, my asthma, my focus and psychology, my mood, my general health, etc. . .
So, I do have my work cut out for me. I know the key for me in this, and in life in general, is finding the BALANCE. If I don't balance my training with my life I will overdo it. If I don't balance strength training with aerobic exercise I won't be at peak performance either. And if I don't balance all of it with my spiritual practice, I won't be grounded in any of it.
So, having a cold today, reminds me that I have to balance things in my training and my life. If I can work on this, I believe that I will be able to face the challenges with more equanimity.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Falling in Love on and with the Bicycle
When I met my partner, who has been an athlete all his life and a cyclist for over 20 years, I knew that a lot more exercise was going to come into my sedentary life. He got me on a bicycle and the first time we rode the full length of the Minuteman bicycle trail I had to stop at least ten times to rest. He was patient and encouraging and during those first few months together we even rode to Concord, a total of about 30 miles which felt like 100 at the time.
One of my favorite things that he used to do (and sometimes still does) was to come up behind me on the bicycle and give me a push. That he has the balance to ride and push me still amazes me, as I would surly fall over if I tried it. There is something quite intimate about his hand on the small of my back giving me a push when I was tired. It always gave me more energy to accelerate forward.
The thing that surprised us both was that I not only fell in love with my partner, but I fell in love with cycling. As I did more of it, I loved everything about it. I loved that you were outdoors. I loved that you could go distances. I loved that you could go fast. I loved that you could work cooperatively in groups to go even faster. I loved that my body felt strong. I loved that bicycles are beautiful. I even loved the clothes. I became a cycling nut.
Now cycling has infused all aspects of my life. I make bicycle chain jewelry and wear a cycling cap much of the time. I teach beginners how to ride at The Bicycle Riding School. I am also creating an art bike from an old mixie frame. I stripped it down and sanded much of the paint off last fall. (Unfortunately I forgot to do the fork.) This spring I will finish the paint stripping and repaint it. Then the real fun starts with hand painting it along a theme. I am thinking about using the theme "poetry in motion" but we will see what inspires me when spring comes. I will then rebuild it! (with help from my mechanically inclined partner mind you.)
So although my partner and I share our love of cycling, I have definitely made it my own. I don't just cycle because he does. I cycle because it is in my blood.
One of my favorite things that he used to do (and sometimes still does) was to come up behind me on the bicycle and give me a push. That he has the balance to ride and push me still amazes me, as I would surly fall over if I tried it. There is something quite intimate about his hand on the small of my back giving me a push when I was tired. It always gave me more energy to accelerate forward.
The thing that surprised us both was that I not only fell in love with my partner, but I fell in love with cycling. As I did more of it, I loved everything about it. I loved that you were outdoors. I loved that you could go distances. I loved that you could go fast. I loved that you could work cooperatively in groups to go even faster. I loved that my body felt strong. I loved that bicycles are beautiful. I even loved the clothes. I became a cycling nut.
Now cycling has infused all aspects of my life. I make bicycle chain jewelry and wear a cycling cap much of the time. I teach beginners how to ride at The Bicycle Riding School. I am also creating an art bike from an old mixie frame. I stripped it down and sanded much of the paint off last fall. (Unfortunately I forgot to do the fork.) This spring I will finish the paint stripping and repaint it. Then the real fun starts with hand painting it along a theme. I am thinking about using the theme "poetry in motion" but we will see what inspires me when spring comes. I will then rebuild it! (with help from my mechanically inclined partner mind you.)
So although my partner and I share our love of cycling, I have definitely made it my own. I don't just cycle because he does. I cycle because it is in my blood.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Being in My Body
Having never been an athlete, this is all very new to me. I spent the first 45 years of my life outside my body and inside my head. To some degree this was because I had a rather traumatic childhood and learned that being present in my body was not always safe. So, I retreated inside. Over my life, until now, I had exercised my intellectual muscles and my emotional muscles but not my physical ones.
So when I discovered that I loved cycling, I was just as surprised as anyone, perhaps more so. I found that I liked the way it felt to be strong and to ride fast. It was fun to challenge myself to go faster and farther. However, it required an awareness of my physical body -- something I had avoided for much of my life.
Being in body was new and at times even uncomfortable. Even now, I find that some times I will cry after a hard work out. It is like all the painful emotions that have been stored in my body comes seeping out.
At the same time, I like being strong and having definition of muscles that I never even knew I had. I feel more whole being able to be in my body and feel good about it.
So when I discovered that I loved cycling, I was just as surprised as anyone, perhaps more so. I found that I liked the way it felt to be strong and to ride fast. It was fun to challenge myself to go faster and farther. However, it required an awareness of my physical body -- something I had avoided for much of my life.
Being in body was new and at times even uncomfortable. Even now, I find that some times I will cry after a hard work out. It is like all the painful emotions that have been stored in my body comes seeping out.
At the same time, I like being strong and having definition of muscles that I never even knew I had. I feel more whole being able to be in my body and feel good about it.
Racing Chick at 46
I am 46 years old and have never been an athlete before. Now I am. I started cycling two years ago and it was the first time that I was truly interested in a sport. My first year I rode 6000 miles and the second 4500, including a 125 mile one day ride for AIDS.
The first year I just cycled like crazy and was happy just to be on the bike and learning how to draft, pace line, use my gears, and take care of my bike. The second year, I rode a little less and wondered what I could do to challenge myself and improve my performance. This year, I have decided to race. Now, writing it so baldly is a little scary to me. I did get a racing license and I have been trying to follow a training schedule and I have been looking at races that I might want to try, but I still have a hard time saying that I am going to race.
When I signed up for the license, I put my information into the electronic form and before I closed the deal a summary came up on my computer screen. It said that I was 47 years old as of December 2008. This is true. My reaction was to think, "what the hell do you think YOU are doing at 47 years old??!!" I still signed up for the license.
So here I am closing in on menopause and thinking about and training for bicycle racing. Who knew?
The first year I just cycled like crazy and was happy just to be on the bike and learning how to draft, pace line, use my gears, and take care of my bike. The second year, I rode a little less and wondered what I could do to challenge myself and improve my performance. This year, I have decided to race. Now, writing it so baldly is a little scary to me. I did get a racing license and I have been trying to follow a training schedule and I have been looking at races that I might want to try, but I still have a hard time saying that I am going to race.
When I signed up for the license, I put my information into the electronic form and before I closed the deal a summary came up on my computer screen. It said that I was 47 years old as of December 2008. This is true. My reaction was to think, "what the hell do you think YOU are doing at 47 years old??!!" I still signed up for the license.
So here I am closing in on menopause and thinking about and training for bicycle racing. Who knew?
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