“Discomfort is the currency of success.” Brooke Castillo
Wet weather and an early work shift means no riding for me today. Apparently it’s called a rest day. Somehow that is meant to make me feel better about not spinning my legs. Well that and I’ve got to work. I have to pay for bike expenses. They just keep coming.
You know you buy a bike and think yep, all set. Not true. Next comes the lycra, lights, Garmin. Thrown in an upgrade to a 32 cog so you an climb mountains, like real mountains. New tyres, a few times already as apparently I ride a lot. And winter kit, who would have thought I’d get up in freezing temperatures to ride.
Don’t start me on bike insurance because your contents won’t cover you outside the home. And now, life insurance so if I injure myself my kids will get some dough. Well let’s face it, I’m working on spending their inheritance anyway so it’s their only hope for cash. You can keep spending, and if I’m honest, current thoughts are now haunting me on buying a second bike!
Every cent has been worth it ahem except for Rapha. Overrated and heavily influenced early in my cycling career. That’s probably going to offend a few. Sorry. Not sorry. I’m a Pedla girl.
I digress. On this rest day, I woke up late. No alarm. Bloody iPhone. The alarm is going off with no sound. I have a new phone and it’s driving me a bit crazy. The only reason why I upgraded was my little iPhone 5 was packing it in with the battery.
My kids constantly mocked me for being technologically out of date. Me on the other hand, hoped to role model the fact you don’t need to upgrade every time something new comes out. This message might manifest in them when they’re in the mid-thirties with families, mortgages and big life responsibilities. Until then I remain uncool.
As a mother I believe I plant seeds. They will take on what is theirs to nurture and grow.
Back to this rest day currently taken in my pyjamas. I work from home now. I had 15 minutes so coffee and fruit toast, I mean real organic chunky fruit, took priority. I am guessing pyjamas are slightly better than lycra. At least I’m not sweaty.
Tomorrow I head off on a 3 day pack hike. Away from the city, my bike left snug but not clean. This is a feeble and written apology to my young friend, early twenties, no kids, always-cleans-his-bike-no-matter-what kind of a guy.
Let’s talk when you have four teenagers.
Back to hiking, there is something about carrying all you need and switching off. Simple. Nothing but the sound of human voice and the wilderness. Definitely the old fashioned control-alt-delete, it’s a reboot for the whole system. I get to set up my little red hiking tent which has become an oasis, holding space to linger, dream, rest and be.
My training for the past 8 months has been intense. There was a lot of time on the bike. I walked a fine line juggling family, work and training. After peaks, I needed to sit with what next, and what that looks like. My awesome coach lives in Perth but I knew I needed someone local for the next phase.
Forward to a coffee with a potential new coach this week. Mention his name to a cyclist and they almost always come back with a groan, and a laugh. A reputation of being a strong but hard coach. And yet I meet with him and his energy is kind and calm.
I immediately like him. We talk past experience, expectations, and future goals. I have to write them down and give them to him. I need a power meter. I told you cycling was expensive. I inform him I’m not interested in crit racing. He gives me a look like we’ll see.
See life insurance.
I was telling him how I felt tired in the lead up to Peaks, like I wasn’t quite recovering in the rest week on my monthly training cycle. He chats a little, then says “you know most people think being on the bike is the most important thing but it’s rest first, nutrition, and then we cycle.” He then asks how my family feel about my time on the bike?
Boom. This man cuts to the chase.
If my kids were there they’d say I abandon them in the mornings for the bike. This is code for we have to get ourselves up, make breakfast and lunch, and take public transport to school. Horrific childhood circumstances. In all fairness, I do drive them to 7am sports training.
The kind and calm in this man are real but what I was truly sensing was balance.
What’s that saying, “when the student is ready, the teacher appears.” My first coach taught me to ride long and to believe in myself. Now this man, well the lesson has already started. I just have to turn up, be open and pedal. Next week.
I just need to get out of my pyjamas.