More on `Fear as a Motivator'

I'm cognizant of the fact that any writing that I do now about my preparation for an upcoming race in August (Hoodoo 300) will ultimately be read after the event.  I've written about past cycling challenges and have felt somewhat embarrassed or `odd' when later reading it.  

`Embarrassed' because I may have been too optimistic or too ignorant to do the proper training.  `Odd' because I wonder what it is about these things that gets me so engaged that it knocks my life off balance (family, work, etc).  

I was born a `psychologist.'  That is, I probably overthink everything.  Luckily I chose to make my actual profession that of a `psychologist,' as a practical defense against `stinkin' thinkin'.  Cognitive traps.  Emotional tail-chasing.  Too often this `defense' gets pretty weak and worn down.  

For the past few years I've focused a good deal of my training for `flat land' competitions.  The 6-12-24 Hour World Championship in Borrego Springs, CA.  The Bike Sebring 12 Hour race in Sebring, FL.  

I trained in the flat desert, 80 miles away and 4,000 feet below where I live in Prescott, AZ.  Why?  Because there are no recumbent cyclists up here!  And I wanted to `compare' my abilities with other recumbent cyclists.  Not to mention just for the company of other serious cyclists.  

Another important reason I targeted these events: safe roads.  Although there is a vibrant randoneurring community in Arizona many of the courses they use are dangerous.  Trucks, RVs, ATVs and other vehicles whizzing by on a 2 lane road with minimal shoulder at 80 - 85 mph.  Riding a recumbent bike on these roads is, in my opinion, even more dangerous.  

(I remember, on a randoneurring brevet near the Grand Canyon, climbing a 15+ mile 6% incline - south to Flagstaff on AZ 89 - with a 20-30 mile crosswind blowing me from a 12" shoulder into speeding trucks and cars.  Navigating the crosswind, the rumble strips ... I finally just stopped and hitch hiked to the top.  Live another day.)

Now that I've chosen to compete in an event that takes place on safe roads, in the Utah mountains, over 300 miles, with 17,000 feet of climbing - all within a time limit of 24 hours - I am not allowing myself any excuses if I do poorly.  After all, I live in the Arizona mountains; the perfect training terrain for this event.  

THE RACE PLAN:

It is more psychologically feasible to race twelve (approximately) 25 mile stages than to race one 300 mile stage.  As well, breaking the race event into 12 stages allows me to train specifically for each particular stage.  

For example, stage seven is 32 miles long with 4,500 feet of climbing.  That is a `huuuge' amount of climbing in such a short space.  

The very next stage, stage eight, is 27 miles long with 5.300 feet of descending.  (In the dark of night, from an altitude of 10,500 feet above sea level to 5,750 feet above sea level).  Reaching speeds in excess of 40 mph, for long stretches, is an almost certainty.  A `certainty' that carries with it serious risks (mechanical failure, hitting critters on the road, road surface problems, windchill and frostbite). 

THE TRAINING PLAN:

The 300 is a valid competitive challenge.  Not `too easy.'  Not `too hard.'  Right in the target zone for me.  No excuses.  I live in the perfect training terrain.  And that is sobering.

I'm training now in a way that I've never trained before.  My training courses simulate both the climbing and descending of the 300.  I've broken the training courses into discrete sections that I am timing.  Each segment will serve as a baseline against which I will attempt to improve on each time I train on that course.  

THE TYRANNY OF TRAINING:

I can make myself miserable when I set a goal that requires disciplined and difficult training.  Worse, I can make those around me even more miserable ... because of how I act when I feel miserable.  

I don't know, yet, quite how I am going to not go off the deep end in the training process over the next three months.  But I will be making it a priority to remain mindful of my mood, of not feeling `rushed' and unwilling to relax, to be patient and `smell the roses.'  

No doubt I will have more to `blog' about this process.