she keeps moet and chandon in her pretty cabinet...,or houston, we have a problem
i am terminally sentimental.
that is not so much a character flaw as it is somewhat a nuisance to live with. for instance, there are particular material things i cannot throw away. i cry in especially emotionally manipulative movies, and all youtube videos depicting mother animals looking after their babies put a lump in my throat. when i consider my boys growing up at lightning speed, i try to think of something else, do a complicated word problem in my head involving trains and arrival times as a distraction. from time to time tough as nails can be soft as putty. this is me.
since my unsuccessful houston trip, i have been off my bike for nearly 3 weeks. just a bit ago when i went to detach the rear rack from my seat post, upon taking inventory of the items still inside the mammoth pod and panniers, among other things i recovered was a half eaten, mold spore infested almond butter and nutella on wheat sandwich. and a mrs baird's cherry pie. both go in the trash. cluck would not benefit from either.
my last ride, although 250 miles, did not end how i would have liked. don't get me wrong, that is a strong goal and big day of riding all by itself for anyone, but it was not my goal that particular weekend. what i wanted, what i needed was 1000K to wrap up my year long brevet series. 1000K is just 200K shy of pbp, which will forever be my most monumental effort and accomplishment on the road. no way around it -- 1000K in 75 hours is a doozie of a humdinger. but i'd done farther before so i knew, i knew i could do it again. perhaps the moet and chandon in the houston motel refrig was a bit premature.
control room and thrusters: sometimes the thrusters are online ready for the day's mission. sometimes the control room is prepared and equipped. sometimes when both operate in perfect concert, in unparallelled synchronicity, it is a beautiful thing - glorious, satisfying, fulfilling. few things are better. but when one of those fails, what then? well, the unthinkable - abort mission.
my 43 year old knees sometimes get in my way, yelling louder than i am sometimes able to yell back. the disbelief and disappointment were overwhelming when i had to officially declare my first ever dnf. when you set out and plan all season, working toward such a finale with so much resting on its completion, your thought process is trained not to accept anything other than success. so when you turn that on its head, the brain rejects it entirely. definitions get redefined. thoughts and plans get reconsidered. the math of it gets reworked and refigured, but you cannot make it add up.
pbp happens every 4 years. next year is a pbp year. if i do choose to ride it again after completing the qualifying brevets this coming spring, i now will not be guaranteed a good registration spot, not having finished the 1000K. the many randonneuring events i did complete this year to finish off the R5000 will not result in that prestigious award i wanted after all. that dnf cost me big.
perhaps my failing body will continue to veto my grand plans, or perhaps leaving those other miles out there undone that weekend saved my knees for bigger and better things ahead. perhaps i will get another chance to have at it and do what i set out to do. leaving things unfinished is not my style. questions unanswered gnaw and pester. it may take me a bit to check it off, yet award or no award, pbp or not, the 1000K needs to get done. i don't even care if it is an acp sanctioned event at this point. feeling gun shy is no way to be.
i'll finish taking that rack off and hit the lake for a lap or two. have to reset my trip odometer that still reads 248. can't stay away forever. winter track workouts begin in just 2 weeks.
that is not so much a character flaw as it is somewhat a nuisance to live with. for instance, there are particular material things i cannot throw away. i cry in especially emotionally manipulative movies, and all youtube videos depicting mother animals looking after their babies put a lump in my throat. when i consider my boys growing up at lightning speed, i try to think of something else, do a complicated word problem in my head involving trains and arrival times as a distraction. from time to time tough as nails can be soft as putty. this is me.
since my unsuccessful houston trip, i have been off my bike for nearly 3 weeks. just a bit ago when i went to detach the rear rack from my seat post, upon taking inventory of the items still inside the mammoth pod and panniers, among other things i recovered was a half eaten, mold spore infested almond butter and nutella on wheat sandwich. and a mrs baird's cherry pie. both go in the trash. cluck would not benefit from either.
my last ride, although 250 miles, did not end how i would have liked. don't get me wrong, that is a strong goal and big day of riding all by itself for anyone, but it was not my goal that particular weekend. what i wanted, what i needed was 1000K to wrap up my year long brevet series. 1000K is just 200K shy of pbp, which will forever be my most monumental effort and accomplishment on the road. no way around it -- 1000K in 75 hours is a doozie of a humdinger. but i'd done farther before so i knew, i knew i could do it again. perhaps the moet and chandon in the houston motel refrig was a bit premature.
control room and thrusters: sometimes the thrusters are online ready for the day's mission. sometimes the control room is prepared and equipped. sometimes when both operate in perfect concert, in unparallelled synchronicity, it is a beautiful thing - glorious, satisfying, fulfilling. few things are better. but when one of those fails, what then? well, the unthinkable - abort mission.
my 43 year old knees sometimes get in my way, yelling louder than i am sometimes able to yell back. the disbelief and disappointment were overwhelming when i had to officially declare my first ever dnf. when you set out and plan all season, working toward such a finale with so much resting on its completion, your thought process is trained not to accept anything other than success. so when you turn that on its head, the brain rejects it entirely. definitions get redefined. thoughts and plans get reconsidered. the math of it gets reworked and refigured, but you cannot make it add up.
pbp happens every 4 years. next year is a pbp year. if i do choose to ride it again after completing the qualifying brevets this coming spring, i now will not be guaranteed a good registration spot, not having finished the 1000K. the many randonneuring events i did complete this year to finish off the R5000 will not result in that prestigious award i wanted after all. that dnf cost me big.
perhaps my failing body will continue to veto my grand plans, or perhaps leaving those other miles out there undone that weekend saved my knees for bigger and better things ahead. perhaps i will get another chance to have at it and do what i set out to do. leaving things unfinished is not my style. questions unanswered gnaw and pester. it may take me a bit to check it off, yet award or no award, pbp or not, the 1000K needs to get done. i don't even care if it is an acp sanctioned event at this point. feeling gun shy is no way to be.
i'll finish taking that rack off and hit the lake for a lap or two. have to reset my trip odometer that still reads 248. can't stay away forever. winter track workouts begin in just 2 weeks.
posted by becky at 10:37 AM
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