Waiting for the Fun or, Mental Road Blocks
Saturday after work, I raced home, packed up the Sprinter and drove the 2.5hours to Bloomfield in rural Prince Edward County. Visiting with Kt and Rick, checking out all the renovations and improvements to the Barn, I was finally in bed around 11ish. Sunday morning, up for breakfast as another warm, sunny summer day descended upon the bike shop. It was my intention to get in a solid 250-260kms training ride for the Hairshirt. Although I got a late start–10:45am wheels hot–I was confident I could complete the ride by dark.
I started through West Lake with a visit with mum at the Lakeshore Lodge. From there, east to Milford where I refilled a bottle at a little shop then headed south-east through South Bay and along Long Point Road until it turned to dirt. Retracing my steps, I then headed north through Black River(where at the Cheese company, they refused me water) and east along route #8 to Cressy. At the tip of that finger, the road turns and heads west, becoming route #7. Passing Lake on the Mountain, the road intersects route #33, leading to Picton. My body felt fine, the bike was performing well, the wind wasn’t too punishing and the traffic moderate. There was, however, one factor I was struggling against, had been battling for the past couple of hours. My head.
Heading east towards Cressy then west towards Picton, I dreaded the thought of continuing on for another five hours. I just did not want to do it at all. The idea of knocking out another 120-150kms was so unappealing to me. Not physically, but mentally, I just didn’t have what it would take to suffer through those late miles. Not only did I feel I couldn’t get through all those miles to come, I wasn’t enjoying being on the bike as I obsessed about the toil before me. I wasn’t having fun, I couldn’t really be present and I missed that feeling. I was getting down on myself for not wanting to push on when all I wanted was to enjoy a bike ride.
Since returning to Ontario in early April, all my riding has been on the road. I’ve been putting down some really long weekly rides in preparation for the 200 mile Hairshirt on June 21st. While I do enjoy road riding, love the pain and suffering, recently I’ve been missing the mountain-bike. I miss the dirt, I miss having fun, smiling and laughing and cheering as I ride. Instead, some of my rides are simply a chore, an obligation. I feel like an adult, compelled to get on the road bike, slog out a long day, then eat and head to bed. I want to be a kid again, I want to get dirty and fall down and laugh and play on my mountain-bike.
So, last night, I sent a message to my mtb riding partner, Reilly, lamenting the day’s ride and my desire for dirt. “Remember the bike is supposed to be fun. Don’t burn yourself out. I’ve been there and it sucks. Get on the fat tires and have a little fun.” Yes, Sarge.
As I type these words, the rains continue to pour; has been all night long. As such, the Monday morning mtb ride with Kt has been cancelled. I’m a little bummed. I had a nice carbon-fibre hard-tail all cleaned, adjusted and waiting for me to ride. Instead, well, here I type. Guess the fun times will have to wait just a little longer..
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