I am perfect.
Well, no, I'm not perfect. I'm far from perfect, and I know it. I could rattle off a list 4 hours long of my faults and shortcomings.
But still, I don't want to hear from anybody else that I'm not perfect.
I also know everything.
Okay, I know that's not true either. I'm pretty ignorant about a lot of things including math, science, politics, the names of famous actresses and what movies they're in, and most things that matter.
But God help you if you try and give me a tip, a pointer, or advice that I did not ask for.
I am always right.
I have very strong opinions about the things that interest me, although those opinions evolve. If I'm going to change my opinion later then my opinions, too, must be wrong. At least sometimes.
But if you disagree with me, you are most certainly wrong.
In reality, my ego isn't nearly as big as it seems. Most of the time I'm lampooning myself when I say (write) opinionated, arrogant, and even overzealous things. And the joke's on me. Sometimes I write like an asshole just to remind myself not to be an asshole. BUT, I have to admit that I have a big, fat ego when it comes to two things: my bicycle, and my endurance.
Look out, cycling world. Here comes Speed Racer!
I recognize that there are many, many people who are fast and can outlast me on my best day. I choose not to compare myself to those people, it makes me feel better to pretend that they don't exist (Karen Smyers who???). But when I rolled into Schuylerville, NY last year and rode 200 miles in 12 hours, without ever having ridden more than 115 miles in my life, I was pretty convinced that I was God. I had set a goal, achieved it, and now I felt like the ultimate after-school special; a living, breathing example that you can do anything you set your mind to (I do not, in fact, agree with this statement, but that's not the point). I had made cycling my bitch.Since I've decided to close the book on running and set my gaze forward to the cycling season, it's taken a Herculean effort to keep my ego in check as I plan my goals for the upcoming season. I have forced myself, albeit begrudgingly, to ask others for advice. But here's the problem:
People are not giving my awe-inspiring superpowers the respect that they deserve!
Side note: I finally got to take out my fixed gear for the first time today!!! The big joke all the fixie geeks I know love to tell me is, "DON'T STOP PEDALING!" Man, they're not kidding! I kept forgetting that I couldn't coast around corners, over speed bumps, through puddles, and down hills. I only remembered to KEEP PEDALING when my pedals tried to pitch me over my handlebars. In the half hour or so I managed to squeeze in after coming home from Maine (another post on that coming soon), I managed to master slowing down, turning, small hills, and gradual descents all without stopping pedaling. The problem came when I got home. I started slowing down at the beginning of the block, continued to slow down as I passed my house, and was still going slower and slower when I reached the end of the block. Thank goodness I insisted that The Hott Bike Mechanic put an "Oh shit brake" on the bike, or I might still be out there right now, still pedaling and trying to figure out how to stop. It was so fun! I can't wait till it warms up so I can start using it for my commute!
The first blow came when I finally (after over a year) got up the nerve to write an email to an elite female cyclist who sometimes swims with my Masters group. I tried to hint at the fact that I already knew everything, but if there was someone who might know about a magic switch I could flip to become a cycling sensation overnight (or maybe just manage to get out of Category 4 – the beginners' category – by the end of this season without making an ass of myself), it was her.
And then she didn't write back... for a week.
I was furious. I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!!! She was going to rue the day that she ignored the likes of me. It wasn't until I had stalked her every measurable result on the internet, had a half-formed profile of her entire cycling career (strengths and weaknesses), and had planned her bloody demise (or at least to pee on her in the shower), that she responded to me. It turns out being a wife, mother, and human being takes priority over my planned hostile take-over of the cycling world. Her response was generous, helpful, and insightful. I am going to hell.
But still, it was clear from her response that she was not, in fact, quaking in her cycling shoes at the prospect of me tearing her legs off. In fact, her advice was the perfect advice for someone new to formal cycle racing, but not cycling. Her response was aimed at someone just like me, only without the colossal one-in-a-hundred-billion raw talent that my ego tells me I possess. I was still intent on proving her wrong. By the end of the season, I at least wanted her respect, even if I no longer wanted to see her kneeling in a gutter begging for mercy.
The next blow was slightly more subtle. Out of nothing more than boredom and frustration, I agreed to go back to Saratoga Springs, NY to do a century with John from Adirondack Ultracycling (the race organizer of the Saratoga 12/24 that I did last year, as well as the Adirondack 540 RAAM qualifier that I plan to do this year). Much to my relief, after a snow storm John decided to make the ride a 6-hour trainer ride, so I drove three and a half hours each way just to ride in someone else's living room. It was worth it just to pick his brain for 6 hours. I decided to keep the magnitude of my goals to myself, and pretend to be someone not yet blessed with amazing superpowers of strength and endurance to keep John talking more. In the course of my "playing dumb and just listening," I learned a lot from John about how ultracycling works and what to expect on the brevets that I plan on doing this summer. And then the conversation turned to the 24-hour race. "There are 3 women that are planning on turning up this year who are very good."
I gave John a long, stern look. "What do you mean by very good?!" The implication, of course, was that I am still green, and should not expect to win as easily as I did last year... or even win at all.
"I think that any one of them might be able to ride 350 miles."
Three hundred and fifty miles?! I thought. I'm expecting to break 400, and training to crack 440!
"Remember," he went on. "You slow down a lot after dark."
I have never ridden after dark. Not me! I thought. Only ordinary mortals slow down as time goes on. I am going to be the first person ever to never get tired! Because I have a secret weapon: TRAINING! Those women won't know what hit them!
Later, as I was leaving the house, the subject of the ADK 540 RAAM qualifier came up. "You should come do it. The one-lap record is only 11 hours (for 135 miles). You could beat that easily," John said.
"What are the 3- and 4-loop records?" his wife asked.
"Forty and a half hours for three, and forty-nine and a half for the RAAM qualifier," John spouted off.
"Well I'll be there," I said. "I can't say I'll be riding all 4 laps, but I'll be there." What was I talking about??? I had every intention of riding every inch of that course. Not because I'm in any hurry to qualify for RAAM, but because I don't want to leave anything half-done. But then again, if I opened my big, fat mouth (luckily, not as big and fat as my ego), then I ran the risk of failing in front of witnesses later. Better to keep my mouth shut.
Ever since she popped up and then disappeared on my blog this fall, Fellow Chick Biker has been the voice sitting in the back of my head.
"yeah, yeah, you are so talented, blah. enter a real road race and we'll see if you can hang."
The scariest part of setting expectations of myself is that I might not live up to them. Worse, the scariest part about sharing my goals to others is that their expectations of me are raised. If I don't tell anyone that I plan to do well, then no one will notice if I suck. Rationally, I know that I'm not the greatest thing to happen to cycling since Lance Armstrong. Rationally, I also know that I do have some talent to work with (not a ton, but enough). What people seem to forget is that when I rode that 12-hour race, I'd only ridden about 5 centuries in my life, and had never ridden more than 115 miles at one time. I remember lying there with my sore feet in the air for half an hour and groaning that I couldn't eat anything in this 95ยบ heat and 90% humidity (I probably consumed less than 1000 calories in those 12 hours).
How much faster can I ride if I actually focus on my cycling all season? How much farther can I go if I have a crew to hand me up cold (non-curdling) drinks and food that isn't melted all over my bento box? How much fatigue will I be able to ward off if I have several night-time training rides, and rides of over 200 consecutive miles? How much better of a rider will I be if I actually TRAIN on my bike? How much longer will I be able to stay in my aero bars if race day isn't the first day I've ever used them?
My training on the bike has never been very organized. Last season when Mary asked me how to get faster on the bike I think I said, "Just be too cocky to let yourself get dropped. It worked for me." Mindy remembers me telling her that my only strategy was that, "I love riding my bike, so I ride a lot." This year I am being much more methodical about my training, and I'll be riding a lot more. That's got to count for something, right?!
But my goals are not quite as scientific as my training. They are based on the assumption that I'm too cool to get tired, and I'm too cool to slow down. I know that if I can just keep my mouth shut, I can surpass everyone else's expectations, if not my own. But the problem is, that every time someone underestimates me, it undercuts my self-confidence. How does one find balance between the two? If I knew the answer to that question, I wouldn't have such an abrupt end to this post.
And then she didn't write back... for a week.
I was furious. I WILL NOT BE IGNORED!!! She was going to rue the day that she ignored the likes of me. It wasn't until I had stalked her every measurable result on the internet, had a half-formed profile of her entire cycling career (strengths and weaknesses), and had planned her bloody demise (or at least to pee on her in the shower), that she responded to me. It turns out being a wife, mother, and human being takes priority over my planned hostile take-over of the cycling world. Her response was generous, helpful, and insightful. I am going to hell.But still, it was clear from her response that she was not, in fact, quaking in her cycling shoes at the prospect of me tearing her legs off. In fact, her advice was the perfect advice for someone new to formal cycle racing, but not cycling. Her response was aimed at someone just like me, only without the colossal one-in-a-hundred-billion raw talent that my ego tells me I possess. I was still intent on proving her wrong. By the end of the season, I at least wanted her respect, even if I no longer wanted to see her kneeling in a gutter begging for mercy.
The next blow was slightly more subtle. Out of nothing more than boredom and frustration, I agreed to go back to Saratoga Springs, NY to do a century with John from Adirondack Ultracycling (the race organizer of the Saratoga 12/24 that I did last year, as well as the Adirondack 540 RAAM qualifier that I plan to do this year). Much to my relief, after a snow storm John decided to make the ride a 6-hour trainer ride, so I drove three and a half hours each way just to ride in someone else's living room. It was worth it just to pick his brain for 6 hours. I decided to keep the magnitude of my goals to myself, and pretend to be someone not yet blessed with amazing superpowers of strength and endurance to keep John talking more. In the course of my "playing dumb and just listening," I learned a lot from John about how ultracycling works and what to expect on the brevets that I plan on doing this summer. And then the conversation turned to the 24-hour race. "There are 3 women that are planning on turning up this year who are very good."
I gave John a long, stern look. "What do you mean by very good?!" The implication, of course, was that I am still green, and should not expect to win as easily as I did last year... or even win at all.
"I think that any one of them might be able to ride 350 miles."
Three hundred and fifty miles?! I thought. I'm expecting to break 400, and training to crack 440!
"Remember," he went on. "You slow down a lot after dark."
I have never ridden after dark. Not me! I thought. Only ordinary mortals slow down as time goes on. I am going to be the first person ever to never get tired! Because I have a secret weapon: TRAINING! Those women won't know what hit them!
Later, as I was leaving the house, the subject of the ADK 540 RAAM qualifier came up. "You should come do it. The one-lap record is only 11 hours (for 135 miles). You could beat that easily," John said.
"What are the 3- and 4-loop records?" his wife asked.
"Forty and a half hours for three, and forty-nine and a half for the RAAM qualifier," John spouted off.
"Well I'll be there," I said. "I can't say I'll be riding all 4 laps, but I'll be there." What was I talking about??? I had every intention of riding every inch of that course. Not because I'm in any hurry to qualify for RAAM, but because I don't want to leave anything half-done. But then again, if I opened my big, fat mouth (luckily, not as big and fat as my ego), then I ran the risk of failing in front of witnesses later. Better to keep my mouth shut.
Ever since she popped up and then disappeared on my blog this fall, Fellow Chick Biker has been the voice sitting in the back of my head."yeah, yeah, you are so talented, blah. enter a real road race and we'll see if you can hang."
The scariest part of setting expectations of myself is that I might not live up to them. Worse, the scariest part about sharing my goals to others is that their expectations of me are raised. If I don't tell anyone that I plan to do well, then no one will notice if I suck. Rationally, I know that I'm not the greatest thing to happen to cycling since Lance Armstrong. Rationally, I also know that I do have some talent to work with (not a ton, but enough). What people seem to forget is that when I rode that 12-hour race, I'd only ridden about 5 centuries in my life, and had never ridden more than 115 miles at one time. I remember lying there with my sore feet in the air for half an hour and groaning that I couldn't eat anything in this 95ยบ heat and 90% humidity (I probably consumed less than 1000 calories in those 12 hours).
How much faster can I ride if I actually focus on my cycling all season? How much farther can I go if I have a crew to hand me up cold (non-curdling) drinks and food that isn't melted all over my bento box? How much fatigue will I be able to ward off if I have several night-time training rides, and rides of over 200 consecutive miles? How much better of a rider will I be if I actually TRAIN on my bike? How much longer will I be able to stay in my aero bars if race day isn't the first day I've ever used them?
My training on the bike has never been very organized. Last season when Mary asked me how to get faster on the bike I think I said, "Just be too cocky to let yourself get dropped. It worked for me." Mindy remembers me telling her that my only strategy was that, "I love riding my bike, so I ride a lot." This year I am being much more methodical about my training, and I'll be riding a lot more. That's got to count for something, right?!
But my goals are not quite as scientific as my training. They are based on the assumption that I'm too cool to get tired, and I'm too cool to slow down. I know that if I can just keep my mouth shut, I can surpass everyone else's expectations, if not my own. But the problem is, that every time someone underestimates me, it undercuts my self-confidence. How does one find balance between the two? If I knew the answer to that question, I wouldn't have such an abrupt end to this post.
Note: Be sure to vote on my poll at the right. I'll leave it up next to my "Bucket List" for the rest of the year, and we can see on January 1, 2010 whether opening my big, fat mouth about my dreams was a mistake. You may select multiple answers.
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6 comments:
"I love riding my bike, so I ride a lot."
I hope you continue this theme.
Better than: "I hate running, but I do it anyways for reasons that don't make sense."
"Go speed racer, burnin' up that 24 hour..."
To the tune of "Go greased lightnin'"
This is going to be a great year for you.
If you need a support crew for adk I have a station wagon that can fit a ton of shit in the back....have no mercy..ride like the animal you are.
about Ironman Mexico...I fully expect to see you set the fastest bike split.
I am sure this year will be an interesting one on the cycling scene...and I bet your IM bike split will be insane. Looking forward to all the tales of craziness.
Now for the comment on riding a fixie....i can't stop laughing. Sorry...i *totally* know where you are coming from...that oh CRAP feeling when you try to stop pedaling and coast and the bike wants to lurch you over the handlebars. Not a fun feeling. When you start to get slow enough, then you can back pedal a bit to stop you, but you have to be going pretty slow by that point(you do need to be on a flat part.)...and then jump off. Remember if someone takes you out to the track there are no brakes on track bikes so you will need to master the stop. Just master the track stand...you'd look way cool doing one. :-)
hey girlie-
good job on the FG riding! it's fun, isn't it? try it on rollers! lol! i can't wait to get out again and ride mine. she's all lonley downstairs in my basement, not getting any love this winter.
so you know damn well you're going to do the 24 hour race and you're going to do it well, cuz that's how you roll. you set your fucking mind to something and it's done. i have lots of confidence in you.
yo - did i tell you i found a 12 hour race the day before my fucking marathon? not doing it this year but am skipping the marathon next year to do it. you're my inspiration!!
xxoo-
judi
crap, I need to get on my bike more. You are going to smack my ass as you zoom on by on your second lap as I am finishing my first and laugh at me and promise to keep the margaritas cold until I finish.
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