Shut up.

Right now: Shut up, mind.

Saturday: Shut up, legs.

See, I like to do crazy things on the bike. Really... time spent on two wheels is time well spent.

But this weekend, I'm doing something crazy. I'm riding my first century. 100 miles. ONE HUNDRED.

I should've read 100 Years of Solitude as a leadup. That way I could have some humorous diversionary tactic in my mind, of the Aurelianos and the girl who eats the dirt. But no... no.

I've done several metrics this summer, and one a little longer. The one that was a little longer went the best. I'm quite optimistic about Saturday. But that little voice in the back of my head is telling me, "No. This is going to hurt. You don't want to do this."

So what do I tell myself when, probably around mile 75 or 80, it gets really gritty? I'll be telling my mind to shut up, and my legs to get with the program.

I can't fail now, anyway, barring a freak blizzard or monsoon, or serious injury. I'll finish, and the next time I do it, I'll think, "Hey, that wasn't so bad."

Go get it, folks.

In the midst of my thirty days... The Slow Trajectory

I think you guys caught my drift a few weeks ago... right? I like (most of) how I look now. There are things about my body I can't change, like my upper lip and my thighs. But I wouldn't look like me without my upper lip. And my thighs are my best accoutrement on the bike, because more muscle mass = more power, generally speaking.

There are things about me that drive me crazy though. Lack of career success. Lack of racing success. It frustrates me sometimes... Then I'm reminded that I work hard to follow the path less traversed.

The other day, I was thinking about a situation that happened about three years ago. I was working a dead-end job, making my student loan payments, and frantically searching for a real job. I was grasping at straws. I had been since I graduated. I was applying for jobs that didn't excite me, and a few that did. I got lots of interviews for the former, yet nothing happened, even when I was highly qualified. And for the latter? Nothing. No interviews. No phone calls. Nothing.

I couldn't figure it out.

Now I'm happy with the way things turned out. I'm enjoying seeing who I've evolved to be, and I tend to think the person I am under my current circumstances is better than the person I would have been under those other circumstances. Dave Matthews questions, "Could I have been anyone other than me?" And sure... I could've. But I think my slow-trajectory course fits me well. It has allowed me and my understanding of the world, my intelligence and emotions, everything about me, to grow, to become... more. More empathetic, more learned, more driven. It has taught me that slow, hard work wins out over quick fix solutions, and that our lives are not a singular destination, but a path and journey.

I used to lament what I felt were failures. Failures to excel. Failure to find a career like you're "supposed" to do after you graduate. Life milestones.

Then one day, my friend told me that, "Work will always be there."

And she's right. I haven't failed. I have the rest of my life to achieve. Right now, I think my job is to just be. Be me. Be fun. Be whatever I want. And enjoy it. To be patient, to be kind, to be in love, to learn. I can't have a lifetime of achievement if I hit my high note too early. This is my chance to love myself, where I am, to grow in love, to become who I'll be when the next stage rolls around.

The Dalai Lama says:

“If there is no solution to the problem then don't waste time worrying about it. If there is a solution to the problem then don't waste time worrying about it.” 

Greg LeMond, notably the first really great American cyclist, has this to say on the subject of achievement:

"I have always struggled to achieve excellence. One thing that cycling has taught me is that if you can achieve something without a struggle it's not going to be satisfying."

I often get frustrated with who I am, right now. I am impatient with me today, and can't wait to be me tomorrow. But I can't be who I will become tomorrow without lovingly nurturing who I am today. I can't separate the two. They are intertwined... so why not love myself today? I'm great today. I'm who I'm supposed to be today. Who I am today is not a problem to be solved, but a challenge to be met, day after day.

 Love yourself. Where you are. Right now.

What if we've had it wrong all along...

"It is never too late to start."

If you don't start today, it is not too late tomorrow to begin taking care of yourself. And if you're lucky, you will find a source of satisfaction SO MUCH DEEPER than just "exercise," that your perspective on your life and the rest of the world will be positively affected.

- Ed Shepherd, Strava Cycling Ambassador

What do you do? Why do you do it? What drives you? What makes your alarm go off in the morning?

What do I do? I cycle. (Those of you who know me well are aware I'm a triathlete in diaspora.)

Why do I do it? I enjoy the challenges (usually) of going on adventures under my own propulsion.

What drives me? Health, sanity, being a good role model for The Hobbes-it, friendship, romance, satisfaction derived from sheer misery turned results. A million little things that add up to the experience. It breaks me some days, it makes me cry sometimes, but I'm always a better person because of that experience.

What makes your alarm go off? I have the pleasure of being a stay-at-home mom. I'm more flexible in my training schedule than the average bear, as a result, but when I do have to rise early, it's typically for a long ride, or a short ride before The Husband heads to work.

Here's where I'm headed with this: are your goals derailing your routine? Are you just working out to lose weight? Does every workout just feel like simple exercise? An exercise in burning calories? 

If losing weight and being healthy is built around running for a specified time on the treadmill every other day for the rest of my life, I can see why people fall off the wagon and hate to exercise. I get it. I used to be that girl.

I was at war with my body, trying to whip it into submission. I counted carbs and skipped lunch, and thought if I could just go torture myself on the treadmill a little after work every couple of days, I could fit into the jeans I wanted to wear. I did yoga... that was my sole foray into the world of real health.

I thought I was healthy, really. I didn't know I was in denial about every single thing my body was meant to do. 

I don't care what you believe; your body is a temple.

Flash forward. Paul was training for a half Ironman. For years, I had been aimlessly feeling around the world of nutrition, not knowing what I needed to do. Western diets felt wrong. But nothing else felt right. I kept trying on different nutritional hats, as I trained for a sprint triathlon, pseudo-seriously, for the first time ever. I had begun to make the connection that I had to fuel my body to perform, but still never got the nail on the head. Then, I performed poorly in the race, in spite of my improvements in nutrition and training. Turned out, I was pregnant. 

Motherhood, while the downfall of lots of women, was my catalyst. I struggled to successfully breastfeed. Increasingly, I realized I was struggling because of nutrition. As the real kicker, I was training for my first half Ironman at the same time. I was released from doctor's supervision two weeks early, and immediately began working toward my goal that night, swimming laps.

By the morning of my race in October, I had learned a great deal about myself. Emotionally, mentally, I tend to be frail; I avoid conflict, procrastinate, and my willpower can get mushy. Physically, I had realized I could largely tell genetics and culture, and every other possible influence to EFF OFF. Before, I hadn't known my body was powerful, and certainly hadn't known how to harness that power. That day, crossing the finish line, 70.3 miles later, nine months after I gave birth to our baby boy, I was a different person from who I had been in the past.

Exercise became pleasure. Hard work became my substance. My desire to be better (better than myself yesterday...) surpassed the desire to be thin. Over the months and years since, I have evolved. The war with my body? Over. It won, its victory seen in the goals I had wanted all along, and thought I could never achieve. And while those physical presentations of my inward goals (speed... I can't get enough, and always want more. That's my battle now...) are great, my inward goals surpass anything of vanity. And here's the great part... I *like* the way I look in the mirror now, when I take the time to look.

So what drives you? Do you want something other than mere vanity? If you're just exercising, and loathe every moment of it, I suggest you look past the outward goals, and find what kicks your ass out of bed in the morning, what captures your attention and drives you toward excellence. It doesn't have to be competition... that's not it for me, at all. You don't have to ride a bike, or run, or swim. You don't even have to do yoga or strength training, though I recommend those above all else. But whatever you do should make you a better person, someone who loves others, someone with compassion, who wants to leave the world a better place than when you found it. Do something with your body that makes you feel powerful in a peaceful way.

Thirty Days

"And these are what make man great / His ladder to the stars" - Timshell, Mumford and Sons

A new kind of challenge for myself. One of the mental variety.

Sometimes (often times...), I'm far too hard on myself about one thing or another. I feel like I don't measure up to the expectations of others, or particularly myself. I've always said I should be willing to hold myself up to these standards, because no one else will.

But who am I fooling anymore? I'm not in school. There's no standard of excellence in my world, no 4.0 GPA, not scale of pay. As an adult, doing is excellence. Action is betterment. This doesn't mean giving up is ever an option, or not trying to do my best.

A couple days ago, I started a challenge that I feel the need to tell you guys about. It's a challenge to grow in love with who I am, so that when I reach my goals, I can love who I will be. Because, if I'm not satisfied and really, truly, head-over-heels crazy about who I am now, why would I be happier with myself when I reach my goals? Whether it be career, fitness, or appearance related, why would those things make me any happier than me, now, here, where I sit?

I happened upon this idea in a documentary, Hungry for Change. What good does it do me to nurture my body, and to leave my heart and soul untouched? It has to be a relational change, so I can grow to be who I will become.

You are precious. You are loved.

I'm reminded of the verse, "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well." Psalm 139:14

Don't like the Bible? Great... you are an exquisite rendering of all biology, physics, chemistry, and history. We are the culmination of thousands of years of regenesis of star dust, with the superior ability to think and to do. You are worth loving. Think about it.

When we love ourselves, we can love others more greatly.

So, for thirty days, I will look in the mirror twice daily. I will tell myself I love myself. I will say:

"I accept myself unconditionally, right now."

You should try it too. 

It seems like it should be simple. And yet, do we really love ourselves, where we are?

I'm not perfect. I screw up. I get angry. I feel like I'm not the best at climbing hills on the bike. I burn dinner from time to time. I yell at my child. I yell at my husband. But I have to love myself now. Life is far too short to spend my days frustrated with who I am, and frustrating those around me.

It starts now. Loving myself. Loving who I am, so I can better love others, and love who I am to become.