Snags

Friday was my first day of spring break. In preparation for my best friend's wedding I decided to totally ditch my list of things to do, like buy something suitable to wear other than Lycra, and go ride Yankee instead. I was really struggling because both of my closest friends are now in serious relationships, and I am...still single.

I clipped in and started off pedaling as fast as I could. Something happens after I settle into a ride that is hard to describe. I suppose it is a bit like meditation. It's like doorways open for thoughts to flow in and out of simultaneously. Its almost as if they have a life of their own, demanding that I look. Just when I think I am going to escape something, its placed in front of me again. New perceptions on the same old stuff reveal themselves. I suppose it's the closest I come to clearing my mind.

As I start to sweat I start to think about relationships in general. Particularly mine. This always causes me to think about God because I tend to think that the state of my relationships is a reflection of my relationship with him. The metaphors come to life as my heart pounds in my chest on that first climb. The trail is the relationship. The bike is Christ and I am the idiot crucifying him out there on the trail. I don't mean to really. I am just trying to pick a line; I want to find that flow in life I so desperately need.

Here's the deal. Like so many things in life I've wasted much time blaming someone else for my stuff. When I first started riding I blamed the trail. Then I blamed the bike, but I never truly blamed my self other than to admit that I pretty much sucked all the way around. As you can imagine that state of mind is equivalent to riding in 6 inches of snow on top of ice with no studs or winter gear. It's futility at its finest. So as Jack and I are getting to know each other I find myself paying more attention to the trail. Because this bike has a rigid fork, I have too. This causes me to actually have to loosen up my grip and trust my bike more. If I don't I'll get beat to death. As I am riding I am over come with the thought that if I can just learn to trust, maybe life will be okay.

There are certain areas of the trail that are particularly difficult for me. One is that matted hill. I didn't make it all the way up it on my geared bike until the middle of last season. These first few attempts on the SS proved very frustrating as well. I thought about that hill all through the ride. I thought about what it was going to take to make it. I didn't know what I could possibly do differently to get me up. I was so focused on what to do, that the hill presented way to soon and I wasn't prepared. I stalled half way. I un-clipped. I looked down the hill. I looked up the hill. I considered settling. I've done this most of my life trying to find something to satisfy me. It's never worked. This occurs to me as I am panting in the middle of the hill. I go back down hill to try again. I let my heart rate drop to 160 and make my approach with as much speed as I can. I get to that half way point and say good bye to it, and hello to a whole new realm of heart staggering, mind numbing ecstasy. At the top I can hear my shout echo off the trees, my sole witnesses. I do not stop. I pedal in the satisfaction of not having settled.

There is one more hill out there that is an irritation. It's just after the 10 mile mark. It's not exceptionally steep but it's rooty and loose. I can do it no problem on gears. Jack is another story. My heart is still racing from the matted hill as I attack this one. My pedal catches a root. I consider going back down and trying again, but walk the rest of the way instead. I know it will still be there the next time around. I know I may get snagged up again. I am OK with this. I will learn how to pick my line up this hill. I've been up it before just never quite like this. Anything is possible, even a re-route, given the miserable state this hill is in.

I'll keep climbing it till something happens.

By the time I get back to my car I'm okay again with being single. From this vantage point I am acutely aware of what is going to snag me up. I also know the hill can be climbed, and in the end I don't have to settle for anything less than the top. I can trust this.

There is something to be said for that kind of satisfaction.