Nothing would have prepared me for the fighting occuring inside my mind. My alarm brought me out of a deep sleep, and into slight conciousness. Enough to hit the alarm and drift back into sleep again – fighting thoughts of getting out of bed and stepping into the cold air.
Five minutes slip by. To my mind they feel like another hour. My body relaxed and reminding me to stay here “Enjoy the rest. I need to recover.” It says to me. Ah, Blissful sleep, a resting body, and an indeterminate state of mind. Confused, I turn the alarm off and slowly coax myself out of bed – sometimes you have to step up to the plate, and sacrifice a little sleep. Thats what I keep telling myself.
It was difficult to get through those forty kilometers that cold morning. I was feeling greatful for the arm warmers that came into my possession over winter. Even in December, what is meant to be a summer month in Australia, they are a comfort, a luxury – nay, a nessecity. Sometimes these individual sleeves are motivation to ride in the weather. Sometimes it’s those little motivations that encouage the discouraged. Little things make better riders.
Last week I was living the life of an theoretical cyclist. In my mind I would think about all the riding I wanted to achieve – the mountains I was going to climb – the stages I was going to win. But it never turned into physical activity. It never resulted in what would make me a better cyclist. It is way too often that I fall into this form of study: the theory of cycling, the thought of cycling, the dream of cycling.
And of course, the obvious happened. Putting theory into practice never eventuated. I tried coersing myself, promised sweets to myself, I even tried encouraging other people to get inspired by their passions. Nothing worked. Junk food intake increased and I became a little uninterested in riding.
It wasn’t that I hated cycling. It was that I was finding it hard to get back on the bike. Not even deep and interesting thoughts, online articles, some books I ordered from Amazon could have put me onto the bike. For the fear of failing had taken my mind. Doubts of climbing how I had started to. Doubts of been able to get into Geelong and back. The theory of cycling has its dark moments too, and the dark side had taken over.
That is why waking up early in the morning was a motivational tool. Set the alarm. Get up. Ride. “Come on, you promised yourself you’d ride every week-day this week.” Stupidly I needed a small promise like this to get on the bike again. Sometimes it’s those little motivations that encouage the discouraged.
It nearly failed. Saved like when you drop a glass and catch it before the moment of impact – you get a whole glass instead of shards. At that moment of the repeat alarm, I could have hit that button again and rolled over again into that blissful sleep. Woken an hour later and gone back to the normal regime.
But I would have been devistated. Two weeks ago I was feeling great about been able to ride a local hill in a respectable time. Granted its not a climb, just an uphill section of road for just over 2kms. But it is so far my grade point for how I’m going. Last week I was feeling uninspired, eat food and think. A theoretical cyclist.
This week I have ridden every day. Three days in a row and tomorrow will be four. Tomorrow it will be four if I get up at the alarm… I wonder what tomorrows motivation will be: Little things make better riders…