Cycling is such fun! I can’t believe how liberating, how natural, this sport is. But I spilled again the other day, reminding me what a novice I am, and haven’t found adding distance or speed as easy as I’d fantasized. Bum on seat, pumping legs while the upper body is oddly tensed, seems to stress this old human more than running on concrete ever did, and that’s a huge negative surprise.
Right now, with 46 weeks to go, even if I settle into a routine of 100 kms a week as planned (and I’ve yet to achieve that), I’ll end up 300 kms short of the year-end goal. What to do? Blithe answers – go for some of those 100 km rides all the regulars do on Saturday mornings, or just add an extra weekly ride for a couple of months – don’t work. Writing is far more important, so I just don’t have the time!
If it comes to the crunch, I’ll even retrench my aims. But right now, I make a decision to work towards an extra 10 kms a week. I’m not even sure which ride I’ll extend. I can’t even summon the mental energy to program out the year. So for now I’ll just have faith that over the next month or so, I can gradually up weekly distances and at the same time bolster speed in order to keep this cycling gig to a series of modest intrusions into my writing days.