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.