Pages

Friday, February 5, 2010

Whining v. Complaining: the difference

I'm whining. I expect nothing to change because of it ... but just feel better going `wah! wah! wah!' It's pointless, yes. But justified by how it makes me feel. Like scratching an itch.

Complaining is a good thing, though. We complain about problems so that we can make things change for the better.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wah! Wah! Wah!

I was super psyched earlier in the week because the local weather wasn't bad enough that made outside riding impossible. So I planned all week to leave work thursday night and drive about 60 miles west in the rural Illinois farmland. I have a 25 mile loop of almost barren and traffic-free roads. Three or 4 places along the way that I can access for food or emergency if I need it.

Plan was to leave the job around 10:30pm, drive to the 25 mile loop, be on the road around midnight and ride for 9 - 12 hours. Riding in the still dark night is nothing less than ethereal.

Around Wednesday the weather started to change. I was feeling pissy and sorry for myself. Wednesday night the forecast was for 70% chance of snow with 1 - 3 inches of accumulation. Thursday morning it was worse. I had to crap out on the whole plan. Riding in those conditions is a death wish.

BUT ... I liked the idea of training right through the night after a full day of work. Introduces me to what some folks describe as the `sleep monster.' So I changed the plan so that I would come home after work Thursday night and get on the bike -- in the basement -- on the CompuTrainer and train until 9 or 12 noon Friday morning.

This Race Across the West thing. It's going to be as much psychological as it will be physical and logistical.

------------------------------

Things go on in our head during these intense and bizarre events that are nothing like `normal' life. Someday I'll say more about it but, clearly, my thoughts, experience of awareness and physical sense of my surroundings are very different. Like being alone in space and there is no time, no relationships, every second is different from the last ... and may in fact roll us directly into a reality that, if not strange, is certainly ... like you're the only living speck, sweating and breathing in a vast, dark emptiness.

So I rode in the basement this morning. Did a hundred miles. Got a flat tire, had to change it out. A few other mechanical things that interrupted the straight-on riding. Wet, sweaty. I commonly feel like a slug of mold on the bike. Somewhere around 8:30am I felt the difference between stress and strain creeping up on me (physically) so I capped it off.

I'm gonna do this every Friday, I think. Good training. A way to `use' time without taking it from my wife, kids or work.

So what do you say to someone who says: "Oh, you ride a bike."

- Dan
_____________________________

http://raw2010.blogspot.com/