Commence to rambling…
Like I mentioned in my last post, my weekend training wasn’t the usual long rides & intervals. Next weekend, whether I’m ready or not, the race season starts with the Ouachita Challenge. I did go on some nice recovery rides- Saturday, I squeezed one in before my favorite yoga class, and Sunday, I joined up with the Memphis Hightailers afternoon group ride. Combined with lots of foam rolling, my legs are feeling better from Friday’s cold & wet efforts.
Saturday night, we watched a special about Bradley Wiggins called a Year in Yellow (it’s a full-length documentary, and you can see it on youtube here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rzmXvHHQzcs). It’s good- it shows the usual drama and triumph behind any great athlete’s journey to winning something like The Tour. However, the part that caught me off guard was something that Wiggins’ wife said about him early in the video. When asked to describe Bradley, she quickly asked back- “Which one?” To her, there were two different men- bike racer Bradley and normal person Bradley. Bike Racer Bradley is a “wanker” (I’m pretty sure that’s what she called him- they actually bleeped it out). He’s selfish, short tempered, doesn’t care about his family, etc. Normal Bradley is, well, a nice guy and a good father. Like a normal person.
I realize I’m not training for the Tour de France (hell, I don’t even get a paycheck yet), but this struck me because I’ve dealt with the same feelings. “Normal” me is kind, caring, and somewhat of a mommabird to those around me. However, when the goal to become as physically and mentally strong and focused as possible takes over your life, you can start to withdraw from those around you. I’ve struggled with it a lot- especially since I’ve quit working and turned my entire focus towards training and recovery. Training like it’s your job can make you feel like you’re unable to deal with everyday life and people. I don’t know if all pro/wannabe pro cyclists experience the same thing, but since hearing that comment from Wiggins’ wife, I take comfort in knowing it’s NOT just me.
I’m not saying I’m not happy with what I’m doing. Not in the least- I love doing this, and the gains I’ve made since I’ve stopped working have reinforced that as a good decision. Something about it, though, makes me want to hide from all of life’s other annoyances and responsibilities. It’s gotten worse since I was hit by the car at Rouge. Since I’m trying to make this my job (or at least get to where I can stop paying to participate in my expensive hobby), I can’t just quit for a while to let my fears subside. I can’t hide in a group. I can’t blow off training rides just because they make the joint between my pelvis and my ass ache as long as it’s fixable afterwards with some ice and ibuprofen. Whether or not I’m terrified of rearward-approaching vehicles or losing hope in humanity because no one cares about anyone else, as long as my body is physically able, the proverbial show must go on.
I choose to do that because I love bike racing. If I didn’t, there’s no way I’d willingly put myself through that sort of car-induced mental torture or participate in rides like the one on Friday. It’s just that this is harder than I expected- in all sorts of ways. I’m constantly amazed at what my body is capable of handling with the additional rest and recovery time, but that just means that the training is harder and more exhausting. No matter how much it hurts or how much I torture my brain with it, I like it, and I want more (I’m pretty sure that Bradley Wiggins would say the same thing). It’s just that kind, caring, nurturing, “normal” Andrea is not as readily available while that’s happening.