Getting motivated this time of year is a challenge for me, & if you live in the upper Midwest or other cold locales, you know this winter has been especially rough, with almost weekly snowstorms and cold, windy weather that limit outdoor riding. So you make the best of it: snowshoeing, skate skiing, hiking & diversifying as much as possible (I even started taking pilates classes this winter?). But at some point there comes the moment of truth. When you know that if you want to be competitive in the summer, you have to suck it up, hop back on the bike & start logging some solid hours.
For me, sitting on a trainer is about as far as you can get from riding a strip of dirt. It’s static, sterile, mundane. Spin classes, sitting in front of the TV on my trainer, and even what we affectionately call “trainer parties” aren’t enough to distract me from the fact that though I’m riding a bike, I’m not having any fun. Therein lies the contradiction: riding a bike & training to be fast & have fun…but loathing the journey, at least early in the season.
So last weekend the weather broke a bit, and I headed out solo on the Ferrous for some local gravel. Nice hills, no traffic to speak of, and little wind. The snow started to fall about an hour into the 3 hour ride, and continued gently for the remainder, putting a nice clean veil on the dirt. My legs felt great. The day was perfect. As I neared the end of the ride it struck me: All the mind-numbing hours on the trainer, sweaty & bored stiff - I was taking my medicine. Bitter, choking it down & trying to convince myself it will be worth it. But knowing that in order to feel the best I can later, I must deal with the bitter taste of suffering. That’s right. Taking my medicine. Keep it coming.
