Ridden into the ground and loving it
Kicking back having a coffee after an intense ride this morning is sensational. It is an extreme sensation to run out of gas on the bike. It's a wonderfully strange feeling that is painful, magical and exciting. The energy this morning as we rode ourselves into the ground was very cool. Each challenge to dig deeper was meet with that fear of failure, of seizing up, of not being able to hang on. It was think like a sea fog and could not be escaped. If for one moment we were to back off it would be the end. The only choice was to roll on and push again into that space of fatigue and sting. The remarkable thing is each time I go into this place, into this zone I find something special, something new. A freshness presented itself and as I pushed further. I found that I couldn’t just stand and fight, punch myself out. Be smart we a statement I could hear like a wisher from an invisible friend. Be smart, again it came into my awareness. We swung round a corner and the pace quickened, the surge is extraordinary and it occurred outside and within. If for a moment I was to hesitate I knew I would loose connection, so to drive again was the command. The pleasure is in the relationship the lies within the range and scope of extremes. The vastness of feelings marks a cycle. Not just the one we ride but the one that is ever present inside us. The burning grew and as it did I thought, ‘how can I maintain this effort?’ Then in one foul and almighty swoop we were away again. The release was wonderful as I gained new energy to challenge and step. Every stroke of the pedal was one closer to the end of our ride. As we encountered a slight rise away from another bend it had become noticeably more difficult. The build up of accumulated resistance was so filling and even the little climb was laughing at us. We dug, I dug and before we realised we are over and off again. The joy was like a chorus of celebration that burst and gradually it turned into new momentum. The final stretch was into a strengthening wind. The speed became hard to maintain and as I noticed my position matching the challenge. Lower and lower I became, grinding away. The pressure was had developed into a constant strain that would not let up until the end of the straight. As we crossed an imaginary line we sat up like some proud animal in the wild after a kill. Gasping for air we an evident sign of the effort require and expended. The wry smiles told the story and we rolled into our coffee shop and embarked on a different journey. One of reflection as we each shared our version of the morning’s events. We were all exhausted, we had ridder ourselves into the ground and we loved it.