... in organized races.
I registered for only two organized ultra events this year. And I only participated in one.
This weekend the World Time Trial Championship races took place in Borrego Springs, CA. The WTTC is a remarkable, well-run and exceptionally popular world event. I think I registered for and/or participated in at least twelve (12) WTTCs over the past fourteen years. This year something changed ... in me.
So ... back in April I signed up for both the 24- and 6-hour WTTC races. I carefully structured my training around the mostly flat 18-mile course. I prepared two bikes, made motel reservations, purchased both equipment and clothing to manage night and day racing. I drove the 300 miles from my Arizona home to arrive two days before the races. And then ... struggled with an intense disinterest in actually showing up at the start line.
I didn't race.
I am in decent shape to do fairly well in the races. I've done this race so often there is no mystery to the course, the need for careful preparation, the calculation that if there were a problem during the race I'd be prepared to handle it.
But I just didn't want to race.
I wrote about this in an earlier post Stinkin' Thinkin'.
So how do I understand this otherwise contradictory behavior?
First, at this age (78) I am more committed to listening to my `feelings'. I've learned to give them more credence than when younger and more `head down and just push on'. You could say I trust myself more. Even though all weekend I felt/thought confused at this decision.
Second, to be honest with myself I anticipated boredom at just repeating the same course I've completed dozens and dozens and dozens of times. In fact, in recent years past I'd drive to Borrego Springs several times a year just to train on the course.
Third, back in 2010 I was interviewed by Tom Hovan in advance of my participation in the Race Across The West. In that interview I was asked if I were confident I could successfully complete the 860 mile event. Both the question and my response was curious: "If I knew I could do it I wouldn't."
I've never considered myself a competitive person. I am `sort of' persistent. And I have a history of getting up off the floor and plodding on. But the training, expense and neglect of other things of my life were so demanding made it clear to me that the Race Across the West wasn't a casual jaunt. As it turned out I DNF'd after 415 miles in Congress, AZ. (So much for training for an ultrarace in my Chicago basement).
In retrospect I've allowed my ego to have more say-so than my rational calculation. It's been an absurdly long and clumsy process but I think I'm putting more balance to things.
I'm reminded of this saying. The definition of a fanatic is that s/he redoubles his/her effort as soon as s/he loses sight of the objective.
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Finally, I live in a bicyclist's heaven: the central highlands of Arizona. There are profoundly beautiful and challenging roads to cover. The terrain is varied; from dizzying ascents going on for triple digit miles, to virtually empty good quality roads into the Arizona brush desert. Boredom is not a factor.
So ... there.
