But then on Tuesday, I met up with my coach and we got to talking about why I hadn't thrown a leg over the saddle. It wasn't that I was sick. Nor was it injury. I was just bored. The workouts I was getting just weren't challenging. Yeah, they were consistent. But more often than not, I found myself holding back in order to meet the criteria he set for me. I didn't want to over train, because I've been there, and it sucks. So I held back. And then things got boring. But on Tuesday, I talked with the coach and confessed my feelings about my training plan. And you know what he did? He assigned a workout that "would hurt." And I, in my usual smooth manner, responsed "k." But you know what was going through my head? This.
Seriously. I've always been a sucker for a challenge. A friend once challenged me to eat a full tablespoon of wasabi. And you know what? I ate that sumbitch, and didn't ask for water, or milk, or anything. I kept my face stoic, just out of sheer force of will. So if my coach wanted to assign a tough workout and to tell me that it was gonna hurt, he had another thing coming.
So I did the workout. And I kicked its ass. But this isn't about my workout. This is about cyclists, and our obsession with suffering. There's very few sports where your success or failure in a race is based on your ability to just be stubborn and suffer through it. We're a unique breed, cyclists. Maybe not the smartest of the bunch, subjecting ourselves to all that pain. But unique no less.
This is a sport that thrives on suffering. We feed on it. It's our drug. Without the pleasure we euphoria we get during an intense sufferfest, there's nothing left except for an empty, soulless void. It's a sport that literally has a set of stationary trainer DVD's called The Sufferfest, who's motto is "I Will Beat My Ass Today To Beat Yours Tomorrow." Doesn't that sound awesome?!
And let's not forget the very embodiment of suffering. The man who all cyclists can agree practically invented suffering. A man whom we would all buy a beer, if given the chance to sit and be regaled with tales of suffering. Jens Voigt.
For the uninitiated, Jens is no man. He's an unstoppable force. And immovable object. If you ever get a chance to watch Jens race, do it. The man is a spectacle in and of himself. But part of the reason cyclists the world over love him is simply because of his tenacious ability to dig deep, suffer, and never give up. He's been known to yell "shut up, legs!" during races. He tells his shadow to keep up with him. This is a man that we all aspire to be.
A friend of mine recently told me of a massive two day event that he rode. Each day was roughly 100 miles, with around 10,000 feet of climbing. He confessed that, on the final day, in the closing miles, while he rode with a friend, he and his buddy each experienced previous unknown levels of pain and suffering. And I thought that sounded awesome. It sounded like so much fun, it immediately made my bucket list.
It was at that point that I decided. Cyclists are great at suffering. People who love suffering are drawn to cycling, like a moth to flame. We may get burned. But man, it's beautiful and glorious. It's painful, and freeing, and enlightening, and peaceful. On the bike, mid-suffer, nothing else exists except for you, the bike, the pain, and your limits. And even the latter may disappear, if you suffer long enough. Yeah, that sounds pretty good to me.
Thanks for reading, guys. If you enjoyed it, feel free to hit up that "share" button. All the cool kids are doing it! Till the next one, keep the rubber side down, and your skin off the ground.
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