I had reasonably firm plans to ride a my longest distance ever this weekend. I had a GPS route loaded. My bike was tuned and mostly packed. The weather looked awesome. I had the time off from any other commitments to do it. I am as fit as I have ever been in recent years. I had little doubt I could complete the ride.
But, despite all that I bailed on the ride during the last 24hrs before departure.
I could give you a long list of reasons why this happened and I think they are all valid, but the bottom line for me is I ride my bikes because I like doing it. Sometimes the rides are hard and I am not having fun every second, but under the suffering deep down there is a part of me that’s still happy to be on my bike.
On this occasion I lost that stoke. Without it the whole point of riding is lost to me.
I could have made myself do the ride and hoped to get into it at some point along the way. But, I have a really, really, really hard time rationalizing that when the ride would take up my whole weekend and served no useful purpose other than for the sake of some arbitrary achievement.
Instead I slept in Saturday morning. Had a leisurely breakfast. Surfed the web and wrote this post. My mountain biking gear is packed and in an hour or so we’ll head out to the trails for a ride. After the ride we’ll pick up a few supplies we need to start building up Sharon’s purple Pugsley. Game 7 of the NY-DC NHL playoffs is tonight. We’ll probably go mountain biking tomorrow as well and have a backyard BBQ afterwards.
I’m stoked about all of that!
Now none of this is to say that a challenging ride is a bad thing nor is it to say I won’t be lining up for a big adventure down the road. However, when I do you’ll know it’s because I’m excited to be on my bike.