Radker
I can see this eating up weeks of my time.

I can see this eating up weeks of my time.

When I pull off a proper 140 mile ride I’ll eat one of these.

When I pull off a proper 140 mile ride I’ll eat one of these.

Want.

Want.

Maybe because it’s so easy to go hard on the mountain bike that going hard on the road bike feels so good, there’s little of the joy that comes with carving a nice tight turn on singletrack while going uphill. Instead you have the suffering (I know the overuse of that word) but it’s out in the open, turning over the pedals when it would be so easy to just sit up and sip some water and softpedal to get there. I take inventory of the (few) victories, try to ignore the defeats-failing on that one! I look at my hands, my wrists, scarred and nicked from inattention. I’m locked into an imaginary pace, pushing for a reason that’s still months away but the subtle joy that sits deep inside the effort makes it all worth it.
prelives51:

Here’s one you don’t see every day. Charleston, West Virginia. September 1, 1973. Steve Prefontaine and the legendary Jesse Owens….


Athletes.

prelives51:

Here’s one you don’t see every day. Charleston, West Virginia. September 1, 1973. Steve Prefontaine and the legendary Jesse Owens….

Athletes.

Fading snow, an oven-like 30 minute climb and practically no one else out there. #perfect

Fading snow, an oven-like 30 minute climb and practically no one else out there. #perfect

backroadbivouac:

Set. And. GO!

I can’t find anything wrong with this.

backroadbivouac:

Set. And. GO!

I can’t find anything wrong with this.

Simple

Cutting away the extra, it doesn’t seem to end, 2 steps forward 1 step back
at least most of the time. I keep seeing the gaps as they eventually get
refilled. The trimming will never end. I kind of like that it’s a work in
progress that doesn’t seem to have a finish line. My eagerness to have a
little less and a little more open space isn’t new, just fixing it is.

Snow on Grey’s and Torrey’s in the distance.

Snow on Grey’s and Torrey’s in the distance.

Points/Focus


Points on the map leap-frog and pull yourself to the next location, isn’t that what a day is? You move from one point to another, plodding through the rougher spots to get to the smoother ones. Sometimes the rougher spots are better than smooth, other times I blackout until a rough point forces open my eyes, smiling, enjoying my time, quietly placing another pedal forward. Eagerness aside, quiet fatigue works against finding the right clothes to crawl onto the saddle at 35 degrees and 5:45 am. Subtle are the tricks we use to pull ourselves out the door in the small hours. It isn’t about the ride today but the ride down the calendar, the last lap dig, trying to draw on those efforts that are hidden in the legs and the head. Physical strength is there, that’s not the problem, it’s getting my head in there, focusing on the next moment and not letting everything else rule the scrolling pictures and thoughts running thru my head that make me slower, distracted. It’s a mantra, efficiency and focus…over and over. A quiet head is more efficient, it seems like the blood moves better on those days, the legs are more alive and focused, too.