Why? pt. 2
Why do I race? Because I enjoy it. It is a physical enactment of the internal questions and challenges I present to myself, the proverbial "what is the meaning of life..." Or, more directly, how can I make myself happy? Both on and off the bike, I am happy when I feel challenged and then successful. Racing is a challenge, it's one of the hardest things I have done. I bring all this up because a couple of weeks ago, I wasn't exactly sure why I race my bike. I posted a blog about it, discussed it with a few friends, and did a lot of thinking.
I realized that, during this past road season, I somehow allowed myself to get comfortable and I stopped having expectations of myself. Soon I stopped wanting to win, because I didn't think I could. (Albany doesn't count because hardly anyone was there.) I think that part of the reason behind this is I didn't question why I raced, I just kept going through the motions with the minimal amount of emotional commitment. I had parallel experiences in other areas of my life - I generally stopped questioning myself, and suddenly woke up in a place that I did not want to be. I do not want to be complacent, ever, yet by September I found myself mired in complacency. What to do?
The answer: race cyclocross.
That seems like such a simple answer. Wouldn't it be wonderful if all the world's problems could be solved by cyclocross? Although I don't like the mental image of certain world leaders in spandex. Ew. Anyway, I wanted to get my drive back, to put my game face on and keep it there, just like I wanted to feel like a real person again, not just a robot going through the motions. That's a big reason why I opted to race in the B's this year, so I could be racing to win, because in the A's I would not realistically be in contention for the win. That's for next year! Anyway, for me, cyclocross has become a metaphor for life. Cyclocross requires skill, strength, speed, and tenacity. It's hard. But beyond the physical requirements, it requires self confidence and a solid support network. I don't think it's possible to win without help and encouragement from mechanics, spectators, and other racers, just like life is almost impossible and unbearable when you're all alone. Racing cyclocross has reminded me that I love and need the challenge of racing, that I love and need the community, and I can carry these things into other areas of my life. Bottom line: I can win because I am strong and I am fast, and because I feed off of (sometimes quite literally - thanks for the bottles Melissa and Travis!) the energy and spirit of other people. It's a very human experience.
O.K., enough of the preaching-to-the-choir, since most of my readers are racers and you have probably discovered these things for yourselves already. Thanks for bearing with me and helping me get to this point.
I realized that, during this past road season, I somehow allowed myself to get comfortable and I stopped having expectations of myself. Soon I stopped wanting to win, because I didn't think I could. (Albany doesn't count because hardly anyone was there.) I think that part of the reason behind this is I didn't question why I raced, I just kept going through the motions with the minimal amount of emotional commitment. I had parallel experiences in other areas of my life - I generally stopped questioning myself, and suddenly woke up in a place that I did not want to be. I do not want to be complacent, ever, yet by September I found myself mired in complacency. What to do?
The answer: race cyclocross.
That seems like such a simple answer. Wouldn't it be wonderful if all the world's problems could be solved by cyclocross? Although I don't like the mental image of certain world leaders in spandex. Ew. Anyway, I wanted to get my drive back, to put my game face on and keep it there, just like I wanted to feel like a real person again, not just a robot going through the motions. That's a big reason why I opted to race in the B's this year, so I could be racing to win, because in the A's I would not realistically be in contention for the win. That's for next year! Anyway, for me, cyclocross has become a metaphor for life. Cyclocross requires skill, strength, speed, and tenacity. It's hard. But beyond the physical requirements, it requires self confidence and a solid support network. I don't think it's possible to win without help and encouragement from mechanics, spectators, and other racers, just like life is almost impossible and unbearable when you're all alone. Racing cyclocross has reminded me that I love and need the challenge of racing, that I love and need the community, and I can carry these things into other areas of my life. Bottom line: I can win because I am strong and I am fast, and because I feed off of (sometimes quite literally - thanks for the bottles Melissa and Travis!) the energy and spirit of other people. It's a very human experience.
O.K., enough of the preaching-to-the-choir, since most of my readers are racers and you have probably discovered these things for yourselves already. Thanks for bearing with me and helping me get to this point.
Labels: bikes, enjoy the blog
posted by Courtenay at 11/19/2006
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