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.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
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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