Your worst critic is the one between your ears: 7/6 90-minute training ride

7/6/22

It doesn’t matter how far down the path we come.  How many changes we make?  There is always that one critic sitting there waiting for its moment to pounce.  Today that critic showed up in full force and tried to ruin my 90-minute bike ride and it nearly succeeded.

As tough as the 15.87 miles was last week and the climb up crossroad was it didn’t stop me from wanting to blow my legs out again this Wednesday.  So, I decided yesterday I would do essentially the same ride, but I flip it.  I’d climb Patterson Pass to Cross.  Then go up Cross and then back down to Tesla.   Then hit the two climbs on the end of Greenville and cross Tesla again and climb my hill that is on Greenville Road and then head home.  16 miles and 90 minutes.  It was perfect.  I also knew it was a tougher ride than what I’d done the week before.  So, I was excited and ready to go.  It didn’t matter I’d done a 90-minute training ride on Tuesday to make up for the ride I missed on Monday.  My legs felt goods.   I ended up doing six climbs on the day gaining 700+ feet of elevation, riding 16 miles, in 94 minutes and blowing my legs out.  So, why did I spend half the ride feeling like I had failed?

How did I know today’s ride was tougher than last weeks?  Other than me riding it, I knew it because MapMyRide considered my first 5.8 miles to be a Category 5 climb.  That’s right I set off from the house climbing and then was set to climb until Cross started heading downwards.  So, the ride last week was a Cat 5 for 2.8 miles, the ride today 5.5 miles of climbing a Cat 5.  I was both excited and terrified.

I started off going from my house to Northfront and Northfront to Greenville.  I can’t tell you how many times I ridden this route and couldn’t wait to get down Greenville to Patterson Pass.  I swear that little ride always seems to take me forever except today when I wanted more time to get to Patterson, so I didn’t have to start my ascent.  No such luck I was on it before I knew it.  

As I approached Patterson it was first notice the tiny dock brigade was out.  There was a guy in a Mustang doing donuts at the stop light.  He must have done two or three donuts in the intersection.  What a fucking idiot.  Then if that wasn’t bad enough as I was heading up the pass a guy in a Porsche goes flying by me grinding his gears.  All I could think to myself is how small is you cock buddy you have to rev your engine and grind your gears going by a fat cyclist.  

Patterson Pass is a bitch and Climb #1 was a bitch and I didn’t even take the entire thing.  It’s more forgiving than cross was because you’d get a little break between your climbs.  Anything you are stoked to be going down at 30 MPH isn’t easy to go up.  However, it was doing able.  

Climb #2 is where the wheels fell off.  When you turn off Patterson onto Cross you are greeted by a nice steep California hill.  See picture attached.  I was scared about this hill.  It’s a bit of a blind climb.  Cars were already being assholes on the road today.  There is no bike lane.  However, I was going up.  I chanted to myself over and over I THINK I CAN!  I THINK I CAN!!  I THINK I CAN!!! In my horse out of breath chant. I kept saying it and I kept climbing.  I was doing it; I was three fourths of the way up maybe more and then it went to hell.  I noticed the dead snake completely flattened in front of me.  I was sure it was a rattler.  I was heading straight for it.  Scary I was scared.  My bike started to sway side to side.  I was losing momentum fast and the next thing I knew the gravel to the side of the road grabbed my front tire and pulled me off the road.  I unclipped fast and got my leg down and didn’t fall. Then I proceeded to hit myself four or five times as hard as I could in the left leg.  

For the first time since I had started riding again.  I had failed to climb to the top of a hill.  I was standing right next to a dead snake possibly a rattler and I was standing so close to the top I could spit to it, but I was off the bike and, well I had failed.   

I straddled the bike and thought let’s begin again.  Clip in and let’s go, but I was scared If Id didn’t get enough momentum after clipping in, then I could fall over.  I debated it. Finish it, you can do it, finish the hill.  Plus, I really needed to get away from that snake it was starting to freak me out.  So, I said, “Fuck it” and walked to the top. I’ll call the walk 100 feet, but I know it was less than that.  However, I can’t gage distance to save my life.  

When I got to driveway, I took a picture of what would be called in my head my failure.  Part of me was dumb founded and didn’t know what to do, the last thing I’d ever thought would happen is me not make it to the top.  I debated what to do now.  You know now that I failed climb #2?  

After much internal debate and a few cars staring at me as they passed by, I decided there really was only one thing to do and that was to press on and move forward.  So, I clipped in and started peddling again.  But damn it, I could have, no I should have made it up?  Why didn’t I make it up?  

Thus, the critic between my ears who had been dormant for so long was back.  He was back and he had a wicked tongue.  He harassed me relentlessly over the next two miles coming down Cross.  It was like being back in a warm dorm lineup only I was both Pledge and Pledge Master.  It didn’t matter I took Climb #3 on Cross like a champ and made it up with little effort.  No, the bastard who resides in between my ears was loud and in charge.  Telling me how much I sucked and how I would fail in September. How my legs weren’t even burning and how I just given up.  The 30 MPH downhill that coming down Cross gave me couldn’t quiet that cynic.  I will never need someone to kick me while I am down, I am glad I have the grey matter squished between my ears to do it for me.  

Coming up to right on Tesla I started to yell at myself and to be honest I have no idea if I was yelling in my head or out loud.  “Look, stop it! Stop all this self-critical bullshit, you wheel was pulling you off the road, you had to put your foot down or you were going to fall!  FALL!  What you were going to fall into a gravel pit, that just might have a few rattle snakes in it?  NO!  NO!!  You were not going to do that.  You weren’t going to hurt yourself, so you had to stop.  You had zero choice in the matter.  You lost control of the bike and you know your tires couldn’t have peddled you out of the gravel.  Ease up on yourself.  Let it go.”

I turned right on Tesla and head for my left turn to get to Climb #4 and Climb #5 on the day.  “Well, I still don’t know why you didn’t make it to the top?” the Inner Voice asked.  Again, I answered with rage this time I knew it was out loud “Because I was going to crash.  Hill STEEP!  Couldn’t clip back in.  I stopped because I had too.  Let it go.”  

“But…”

Then as if I was talking to the dogs when they snarl at each other I let out a loud bellowing “ENOUGH!!!”  I was at my light and the voice made no reply.  I turned.  I looked at Climb #3 in front of me and I said to myself I don’t know what I have got right now but damn it we are leaving it out here.   Let’s go.  So, with a lot of sweat pouring down my face.  A lot of let’s do this, and it ain’t no thing, I was climbing the end of Greenville Road and then going down the other side.  

“But…” came sheepishly from somewhere inside and the other part of my brain started to snarl and again a little peace as I stared up at Climb #5.  That steep short climb and I was off.  More sweat poured down my face, I love it, I love it when you are working so hard sweat just drenches you like rain. It is a sickness but an oh so good sickness. I kept telling myself if I can climb this, then I can climb the other hill.  That they are just as steep as each other.  That I will get it next time.  I climbed and I was up and over and topping out at 36 MPH on the downhill and the voice and inner critic was gone.  I guess all I needed was to go from 30 to 36 MPH downhill.  

I stopped at the stop light where Tesla cuts across Greenville and I looked at my hill.  Climb #6 loomed in front of me, and I cracked a little smile.  There it was.  My smile, I had missed it.  So, I got my gears right and I went up and over Climb #6 and it was good.  When I got to the top, I let out a roar.  A roar of frustration over the ride not being quite perfect, a roar of triumph for not quitting and pressing on, but mainly a roar of victory over that voice in my head.  As I was coming down Greenville and heading towards home, I realized that next week, the climb up Patterson to Cross would be back on the agenda.  It would be there until I made it up and over.  It wasn’t going to win.  It can’t win.  It won’t win and when I climb it I will be a better cyclist for it.    

We could sit here and make a list of all the reasons why I didn’t make it up the first time:

- Dead Snake

- Possibly a Rattle Snake

- Tired Legs

- Gravity

- Bad Gas

- Not enough Gas

- Wrong cycle socks

- Just a failure

- Wrong Mental Attitude

Whatever you want to say, it doesn’t matter, because we are going to do it again.  Then again, and then again after that until we get up and over it, because that is what we do and that is why we train.  

I fished for positive feedback after my ride.  So desperately needing to hear from other that it was ok.  I got some positive reinforcement and that is always nice, and I appreciated it.  In my mind and in my heart though I knew it was ok.  I knew I had done good.  I don’t perfect, I just need to have fun working hard.  5 full climbs out of 6, isn’t too shabby.  More importantly, I can’t wait to get back out and ride some more.  40 miles coming up on the 8th.  There and back again to Pleasanton with little climb on Dagnino towards the end and a loop around Downtown Pleasanton added to what I did last week.  

Really looking forward to it.