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| A sign of the seasons...just not this particular season. |
A Hard Reality - Like it or not
Loneliness is a terrible thing. What may be worse is watching the aged and often infirmed as they deteriorate helplessly in to a state of frailty. These were often the giants of our youth - a time when we all needed heroes. In days when our own uncertainty was calmed by their assurance and guidance, we may have never thought we would see the cracks of mortality. These past couple of weeks have completely blown that notion out of the water. I have learned to listen to the "little voices" and not to hesitate in action. I learned the hard way some twelve-years ago that hesitation can be costly. Since then I do not question, I only do. I make it a point to visit many of these giants from our past - now so frail and too often alone, only to witness the cruel reality of life that breaks us all down in the end. From a friend that fought a valiant fight to another since passed friend's dad taking his last mortal breath in this life - these are stark reminders of what life can be like. But in these visits I learn a lot. Sure there are the obvious, but moreover the not as obvious - the lessons in the shadows. The messages between the lines, if you are willing to listen. I spent a solid hour this afternoon listening to a nearly 92-yer old man recount his own memories of not the glory days, but of his grand kids and children. Not so much dwelling on his own past, but an inventory of his blessings in his current day - all tied to his lengthy history. This is where the loneliness started to show, as he recounted his since departed wife of many decades. In that voice I could hear the man I knew more than 45-years ago recount the depth of his soul and emotion, knowing that this living book of history would not too long also pass into our memories. That will create yet another type of loneliness for a select few going forward.
Changing Landscapes
As I drive through our old familiar town, it is becoming less familiar by the day. Not only our town, but the other places that I have known my entire life. Gates across roads that led to adventures of my youth, to buildings that have been replaced my multi-tenant housing projects - it is a harsh reminder of how things will always change. So why does that matter? Why can't change be accepted and embraced? I'm not saying it can't be, but I am saying there are fundamentals we should never abandon. Perhaps the most important of these is who we really are. At some time we all aspired to be someone, or do something that we dreamt would be ideal. Over time we become that of which we gaze at, but at what cost. Much like a town that loses it's character when buildings are razed, people often lose their truest character as the cost of becoming what the focus at that long protracted gazing. Unfortunately we also get worn down by the weathering of life. It slowly wears down our once sharp and chiseled edges, to smooth and rounded conforming features - often covered by hair coloring, nice clothes, material objects and worse - an attitude lacking humility. This need for humility is why I often do what I do - I suppose. As my own landscapes change personally over time, smelling the familiar dirt of my past helps me remember what was important to me before life happened.
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| Days of chasing coyotes and pheasants. |
Pushing the Boundaries
Endurance guys are built differently. We train for the long term and long time events. The image at the top of the page is a reminder of that for me personally. Those long 126-mile rides over Monte to Woodruff and back can be brutal. That particular sign is on the way home after making the turn around. There are days that wind is blowing straight into your face, hotter than hell and unforgiving. Occasionally you get lucky and have a tailwind at points, but it is never easy. Counting the mile-post markers, knowing exactly what the terrain will be at each location as you approach doesn't make it easier. Taking a break at the campground is sometimes a mixed bag. Even from that point you still have to ride over the shoulders before getting to MP42, where it is all down hill from there - allegedly. Unless it is way late in the evening, there will be the reliable headwind at Redrock, just as you head down into South Fork Canyon. Blowing like a blast furnace, Huntsville seems an million miles away. The hell that this sounds like is exactly that, if not worse. Regardless, I find myself during that trial in a way I can't otherwise. It is truly a journey and not a destination - as it ends at home for me. To make this happen requires a ton of sacrifice doing hours of hill repeats, tempo rides, early morning spin sessions and a lot of other things. But that ride isn't the end goal - it leads to the end goal, the journey itself. I have been cooked, frozen, broken down, flatted and everything else you can image doing that ride - but I keep going back for some crazy-ass reason. It's often during these long winter nights we endurance guys long for the days of suffering that we know is that ride - whatever that particular ride may be individually. To progress we have to find out perceived limits and challenge them - again and again. When we don't, our boundaries shrink and we in turn also shrink. Endure!
One more post for the year
Only a week or so left. A lot of work with the business, with more on the books for the year. I'm looking to bounce back from the setbacks of the past 18-months. A lot on the line and some serious ambitions. I hope to have something more meaningful before the year is over, but then again - it has been a rough year when it comes to riding. Perhaps I should try gazing at what really matters most and let it take me where I can go......
This one seems curiously fitting at the moment.......
"...I've gotta roll."
Ride HARD!
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