-2F

Maybe the coldest day I have ridden, possibly ever, it felt right anyway, the legs turned over and the only chill was in my fingers, towards the end it was frozen eyes, refreshing. The way across is the only way I know to bridge fall and spring. Too far from summer and too nondescript; the ice and snow only succeed in making me want to go farther.

Numbers

What is important inside is less outside. Still, I plow thru the ice and fresh snow slowly, Looking for the warm light, less and less of the cold and grey. More of the warmth instead of ducking in and out layers, Thin it out and clean the legs with the pedals. When I was younger work was foreign, nowhere familiar. With the fear of slowing down the urge for work has grown, Now it is my blanket, a little space heater I can rely on, The skis right now are the wall I plug the heater into. The bike soon enough again.

The ache in my toes migrates up to my shins and finally settles nicely into the Achilles,

Constant no matter how many times I step off the bike and run next to it,

Keeping up, trying in vain to coax the blood back into the ends.

The cold bites through the high end fabric that works for the first few hours,

It's now too far in to expect anything shy of a hot tub and a fire to warm my core.

Still I'm enjoying my pedals,

Turning over the cadence that carries me into spring and brings a smile.

It doesn't lessen the suffer I'll get to feel in a few months, it only succeeds in polishing it.

I don't want the Spring to be new to me, I want to hash out every eventuality

Pre ride every second of the first few races a 100 times.

Taste my own blood that should be back in my toes,

But instead lingers in the back of my throat. Outside pushing through Winter,

Maybe the others are warm on the couch,

Not all of the work is for the races, But, it is always for me.

Simple

The Spring will be here, but it's still really far away, here, but 60 miles and 5000 feet down I get visiting hours with Spring, sort of a conjugal visit to warmer place.

Drop

I don't skate as much as I used to, mostly because I'm weak and frail but I always think one day I'll skate a lot again, these bikes and skis and snow are in the middle of me and my board. Not a bad thing at all but a thing, for sure. I will however pay my $11 to see this movie. A wonderful diversion from the tripe that normally is pushed out there.

Parmalee

Clean riding when up high it's dirty, function in that middle ground and it fills my pockets with the pleasant smell of fresh embro and lactic acid. One clif bar short and an hour of daylight more would have put an even bigger smile on my face.

I'm full of shit

I'm average, I enjoy taking the process or program or whatever you want to call what amateurs do in the winter when the rest of the country is getting fat(ter) to heart. I know nothing I do will drastically affect what happens in March, April or November. I have my tools in my bag and what I do now can only tune the machine, it has the capacity it does. Nonetheless, nothing makes me happier than going out for a ride or a ski when most of the others wouldn't, one more lie I can tell myself mid suffer mid summer or mid fall. I do it a lot, lie to myself when the clock is on the wrong side, the legs and lungs and brain aren't getting along, all of the system, the machine is going pear-shaped. "You do 10 more minutes of this and you get a week off" I'm full of shit but sometimes it works, like a teenager trying to get his girlfriend in bed, lies and half truths to get what you want. That being said; today is a rest day. I might have earned it but I doubt it.

1.20.10

Convincing myself I am doing enough is the hardest part. The work equals a lot more than I think. Settling into winter I gather the keys every night to open the lock the next day. Secure and warm, lightly plodding my path, different as it is. The warmer weather just means more time and distance, not more work.

Steps

I was out there, on either side of sunset, no light at the end other than the snowpacked road glowing like a little ribbon to show me the way back. After working all day and not enough new snow to fix the abysmal nordic conditions the bike was the logical call. Quietly pushing through winter, absorbing the quizzical looks, getting my work done, the extra maintenance only makes the quiet KMs better, warm almost the whole time and happily turning over the pedals.

TGIF

I've always wondered if the wiring just wasn't right, I understand what I can but pieces just never really fit as well as I would like. Never is the result as good as it could have been. Doubt blocks success, close but not quite there, always. Doing the most has always meant just coming up short. If you race yourself can you ever win? Losing feels better than winning a lot of times.