Wednesday, June 21, 2017

It Doesn't Matter How Many Miles You Ride

Deception Pass, September 2016

Last fall, during Bike MS Washington, there were policemen stationed at either side of Deception Pass to control the flow of cyclists and cars across the bridge. When I reached the bridge on the homeward leg of Day 1, the policeman asked, "How far are you riding today?"

"Only 60," I replied.

"A lot of you are doing the 60," he said. "But you all say it as though you're embarrassed. Why is that?"

"I guess we were all hoping we could go farther," I said.

Crossing Deception Pass

Cycling, like most activities, has its instant camaraderies, its friendly ambassadors, and plenty of cheerful encouragement between enthusiasts who meet on a common road. It also has its snobberies and self-appointed elite, who gauge a rider's worth by his equipment, clothing, mileage, speed, and - if you can believe it - the smoothness of his legs.

Even for those of us who belong to the former group, there's a certain shamefacedness in admitting that we don't ride hundreds of miles every week. (Some of us don't even ride one hundred miles a week.)

I think this is partly due to social pressure, and partly to aspiration. The social pressure needs no explaining; it's merely the cycling variant of keeping up with the Joneses. The aspiration, however, is harder to deal with.

Once you get a taste of longer rides, and realize that yes, it is humanly possible to ride x number of miles and survive, you want to keep going. The numbers cease to frighten; instead they become alluring. Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty - heck, why not a hundred? Why not a hundred and twenty? It's a kind of Rockefeller-and-money thing: you always want a little more. And, if you're like me, you always feel a little inferior in the company of those who have achieved it.

Rest stop, Bike MS Washington 2016

After my surgery last month, the transport tech who wheeled me out of the hospital (I could have walked, but you know how hospitals are) was wearing a bike-print headwrap.

"Are you a cyclist?" I asked.

"Yep," he said. "Are you?"

"Just a hobby cyclist," I said apologetically. "My rides are mostly short. I've never even done a century."

"I've done, let me see, five centuries since my knee replacement," he said cheerfully, "and I forget how many before that." He went on to tell me about some severe back and leg problems he'd suffered through, the many surgeries he'd had, and the riding he'd done before and after each.

"I dream of training for a century," I said, "but life seems to keep getting in the way. Every year I think 'maybe this will be the year', but something comes up to prevent it. So I do my little 15- and 20-mile rides, and keep hoping."

"Hey," he said. "It doesn't matter how many miles you ride. Some people make a big deal about distance, but as far as I'm concerned, if you're out on the bike, you're a cyclist. Getting out there is what counts."

Then Mr. M pulled up with the car. I got out of the wheelchair, thanked the tech, climbed into the car, and went home.

~

I've thought about the tech's words a lot since then. Recovery was supposed to be fairly quick, but in some ways it hasn't been. For several weeks I couldn't ride at all, and when I did get back on the bike, it didn't go well.

So now I'm starting from scratch, and things are slowly (oh so slowly) improving. I can ride a mile without hurting badly afterwards. Maybe next week it will be two. (Meanwhile the flowers blossom and fade, and the year is flying by.) When I get frustrated, which happens on most sunny days, I try to remember a fellow cyclist's kind words:

It doesn't matter how many miles you ride. Getting out there is what counts.


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26 comments:

  1. I think you're amazing you ride at all. I can't. You're doing great! ((hugs)), Teresa :-)

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  2. That sounds like some pretty intense expectations. I don't remember when the last time was that I even got on a bike (much less stayed on it without falling off). Enjoy the ride, you're a huge inspiration!

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    1. Thank you for the encouragement! The expectations aren't as intense as they seem - or maybe I'm just desensitized to the numbers? I think part of the problem is feeling that if only I were more dedicated, more diligent, I could go farther and do better (when I'm healthy, that is). Seeing other people go out for 90-mile rides on a Saturday, when I'm only doing 20, makes me feel that perhaps I'm not trying hard enough. Very silly, I know. :)

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  3. I'm always impressed by your rides. Last time I tried to ride a bike I fell off. Finally managed a mile or two,but haven't gotten back on since, so you impress me.

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    1. I've fallen off plenty of times myself....

      Thanks for the kind words Janet! :)

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  4. The tech was SO right. If you get up and put on your cycling shoes, sit in the saddle and peddle to the end of the driveway ..........you've done more than most people.

    I just started back in the gym yesterday after a pretty grueling medical year. Do I hurt today? You bet! Did I do what I used to do? No way! But, I sat on the bench, I picked up some weights and I struggled though the aches and pains. I AM a weightlifter even if the weight was only 15 lbs.

    There are those kind of snobs in the knitting world too. We shall ignore and take our victories (even the small ones) as proof that we are still out there getting it done!

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    1. You are so right Dee. Honestly the velo-snobs don't bother me nearly as much as my own sense of not doing as much as I think I should or could.

      I'm sorry to hear about the medical issues. Kudos on the weightlifting, and here's to small victories!

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  5. Only sixty miles! You tickle me, you do! Be grateful that you you can bike and enjoy it, that is an order! I wonder if that tech knows he is a wise man?

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    1. Not only wise, but kind.

      Thanks Kay! I shall attempt to obey your order. :)

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  6. Yes, getting out there is what counts! Wise words! It's the same for my walking! I'll never do a marathon and even a quarter marathon is a big deal (I did that this spring with my daughter), but the important thing is getting out and doing our bodies and our minds the world of good! I hope you will continue to heal and bit by bit, work up your cycling stamina again. It's only a question of time and patience and enjoying it every single step (or wheel turn, in your case) of the way! A good shot of Deception Pass!

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    1. Thank you, Sandra. Your quarter marathon sounds amazing! Congratulations!

      Deception Pass was unbelievably beautiful - so beautiful that I cried when I rode across the bridge. I hope to see it again someday. :)

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  7. Everything you say hits such a deep, resonant chord with me. I was one who wanted to tuck another century beneath my belt because it was a challenge to my body, and perhaps a way to guaranty I can keep doing this. Perhaps it also is a way to get from Point A to Point B under one's own power, without modern technology, or a way to reach a destination that cannot be traveled by automobile. In the end , the number truly doesn't matter. So many never even try. To ride around the block is a joy. Why should any number be anything more or less than that?

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    1. I don't know! It's like the Lizard feeling disappointed because he could only (only!) do the Triple Bypass instead of the Double Triple Bypass. Whatever we attain, there's something in us that wants to go a little farther. Maybe we crave the sense of accomplishment.
      Right now I'm doing a lot of riding around the block, and yes, it is a joy. :)

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  8. I agree with getting out there and riding makes you a cyclist. Period. It's not the miles that count, it's the joy along the way. I totally get you want to do 100...and I do believe that you will. Just let your body heal first. :) Sending you happy thoughts and prayers for healing. ((hugs)) Blessings always sweet friend. :)

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    1. Thanks so much, V. And yes, there's plenty of joy along the way - especially when I stop to smell (or photograph) the wildflowers! :)

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  9. You are WAAAAY a cyclist! Are you kidding?!
    I have ridden (is that real grammar??) a bike as main transportation and for sport (cycle touring), but I don't think I ever made 100 miles in a day. My poor touring bike sits on flat tires behind other bikes, gathering dust and webs. My "day" bike isn't much better--I only pretend it is at the ready, but the tires on it are flat too.
    Oh yes, my brother in Colorado is the up three mountain peaks and back in an hour (well, maybe I exaggerate) kind of rider, so I know what you mean about those types. But really, that you actually get out and ride miles? You are SO a cyclist!

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    1. Thank you for the kind words! Your brother inhabits those lofty peaks that the rest of us can only gaze on with awe and respect. There must be something in the Colorado air. :)

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  10. love love love your cycling spirit. FIreman is thinking of getting me an electric assist bike so I would enjoy longer rides with some cheating help!!

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  11. He's so right! what does it matter how far you ride you are doing it and that's the main thing. The same thing is true for everything in life it's the taking part that counts as long as you are enjoying it that's all that matters who cares what anyone else thinks. :) xx

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    1. Thanks, Linda! You're absolutely right.

      "Who cares what anyone else thinks" can apply in so many areas of life! (I'm thinking wardrobe here.) :)

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  12. He is right and you need to take your time. This might not be the summer of a good long bike ride, it might be the summer of healing and that is really important. Listen to your body my friend.

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    1. That is a good reminder, Mere. Thank you. :)

      P.S. "The summer of healing" is a lovely phrase!

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  13. Slowly, slowly catchee monkey! xx

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