Thanks for joining me for another edition of the SerenityThroughSweat blog. A few weeks ago, I completed the six gap century ride and I wanted to reflect on that experience.
It was not the ideal backdrop for the 104 miles and 11,000+ of climbing. Hurricane Helene had just pushed through north Georgia and western North Carolina. Roads were wet, trees and debris were all over, and the forecast was for rain and fog in the mountains.
A lot of the participants, including some of my friends and teammates, were delaying their departure, thinking the event might be rescheduled or canceled.
It’s difficult to explain the mindset leading up to a big event like this. Most of the time, it is something you haven’t done before. The most miles, the biggest climb, the longest day, maybe all three, for this particular event.
All the training and preparation lead you to this moment on the starting line for something you’ve never done before. The uncertainty of the outcome and the uncertainty of the circumstances combine to test your resolve in a strangely invigorating way.
It’s important to go into any event with a plan. But, the longer the event, the more likely it is that the plan is going to blow up at some point. So, it is important to be able to pivot and be flexible within your overall framework.
I gave myself plenty of time to wake up, stretch, and drive to the event parking area, even leaving in some extra time for the unexpected.
The unexpected came in the form of my third trip to the port-a-potty and my new bike computer failing to load the route within the final minutes before the starting horn. Better to get it out beforehand, I suppose.
Two thousand of my new best friends and I started through the quiet streets of Dahlonega, a parade of multi colored lycra and flashing bike lights.
We climbed and descended, weaving our way through small mountain towns, making our way through the foggy peaks and fall foliage.
The steepest of the climbs on the day, Hogpen gap came 37 miles into the ride. Averging a 10% gradient with parts of the climb above 15%, it was a slow and quiet climb.
The road had been closed off to vehicle traffic, which made the climb eerily quiet. The slow clicking of pedals and deep rythmic breathing echoed off the trees and the damp cliffside rocks.
Not having the route on my bike computer, I didn’t know how far into the climb I was or how much I had left. (The precise feature I had purchased this bike computer for, c’est la vie)
Looking down, I noticed that the computer was paused. I had not turned off my auto pause feature. This is a feature, (usually helpfull for Florida training rides), where the bike computer realizes you aren’t moving and pauses the activity tracking. It auto resumes once it detects movement again.
So if you stop at a traffic light, or break to eat or refill a bottle, your training stats are not affected by the pause.
The trudging dance of pedals up Hogpen gap was slow enough that my bike computer thought I wasn’t moving at all.
That was a little deflating.
But, the bike computer doesn’t know the struggle. It doesn’t know the experience. It is binary. Above this speed is moving, and below it is stopped.
The whole thing made me think of Einstein. One of his many famous quotes, coming from a letter to his son, was, “Life is like riding a bicycle, to keep your balance you must keep moving”
Even when it looks like you are standing still or treading water, struggling to keep your head afloat, the movement is what saves you. The movement is what balances you, literally and figuratively.
I made it over the top of Hogpen gap with lots more miles and lots more climbing still in front of me. I kept moving. It wasn’t always fast, and it wasn’t always pretty, but it was always forward.
Every bike I have had since I started racing has had a name. This bike was purchased with the six gap ride in mind. It had to be nimble up the climbs and fast and stable down the descents. I struggled to come up with a name for the first few months I had it.
Her name came to me while listening to this Shawn James song on a training ride, looking out over the mountains.
“So you think you got it all figured out?
All this money in the bank and the women all about. Well, now what you gonna do when your ship starts to sink?
Caught in a monstrous sea and you won’t be able to think. Yeah, and it’s there you’ll learn what I know. That all of this world will fade You gotta learn to let it all go, oh And flow like the river”
Flow like the river. Always moving. Always forward. Changing course if something blocks its way, but constant power and movement.
One of my favorite TV/movie combos is Firefly/Serenity. It features a rag tag bunch of outlaw space adventurers defying the odds aboard their shuttle ‘Serenity’. The story centers around a character named River.
Constant movement, serenity, an incredible cinematic journey, some funky blues guitar, it all lined up perfectly for what I wanted this bike to be.
A reminder of why I keep coming back to new endurance challenges. To keep growing. To keep moving forward. To find serenity. To flow like the river, whether the world thinks you are on auto pause or not.
Thanks for joing me, stay safe and stay sweaty my friends.
