On Changing Course

I am just a regular guy with a propensity to write. I don’t honestly know if I write for you or for my own catharsis, but I write nonetheless. OK, a more accurate statement would be that I used to write. That was before my heart fell asleep, but it’s beginning to wake up just a bit, so I figured I’d get back on the saddle, at least for a little while, and see what happens.

So here goes…

I am a cyclist. Not a shave-your-legs-with-the-sexy-calves type of cyclist, but a cyclist nonetheless. And if I’m honest, my calves are pretty hairy, in a sexy cyclist sort of way.

I am also an entrepreneur, father, and husband.

Being an entrepreneur, I am a very driven chap; in fact I have to intentionally regulate my hours at work so I don’t wake up one day with my three boys suddenly ten years older and their childhood evaporated like water on hot concrete.

It is the drive that has allowed my business to grow to a point where I could leave the safety net of my day job a little over a year ago and dive full-time into the ever-stable life of the small business owner. And if you don’t recognize sarcasm when you see it, then you should probably be reading someone else’s blog right now.

As you can imagine, being financially responsible for a young family while not having a real job can cause significant stress, which is why I ride. Without my regular exercise and blue skies I become, shall we say, a bit irritable. I log all of my rides on this killer social app called Strava, where I can show off to all of my five friends who follow me just how amazing I am on the bike. It will rank my performance against past performances, as well as against all of the other riders who have dared tackle the same hills that I like to ride.

There is nothing more satisfying on a bike than hammering up a hill and finding out that I have set a new personal record on the climb. It’s a brilliant system that genuinely motivates thousands upon thousands of people to work themselves into better shape in the name of competition.

It suits the driven swimmingly.

Which is why this morning I had to force myself to take a different approach.

I was feeling great, hammering up a hill (which I P.R.’d by the way), when it hit me that the reason I ride is to, well, ride. I ride because I like to enjoy the scenery while being outdoors in the fresh morning air. I find it refreshing to both my body and my soul.

Except that I haven’t really been riding lately, as much as I’ve been hammering. You see, I can be so performance-driven that I forget to just chill out and enjoy the ride every once in a while. And so that is what I gave myself permission to do today. Just. Ride.

I wonder sometimes how often we approach life like this. I know I do. How often do we just put our heads down, grinding it out, without ever taking the time to notice the beautiful things around us. Not in a stop-and-smell-the-flowers kind of way (although that is indeed important from time to time), but in a lets keep moving forward while at the same time being diligent to keep our heads up and notice the simple things kind of a way.

The sun rays poking through the branches of the trees.

The heat of the sun evaporating the morning dew off of the road, creating an ethereal ride through winding roads.

The dusting of snow on the mountains above and the contours of the various layers of earth making their descent to the valley below.

And the best part? The performance was there too. Not on the forefront of my psyche, mind you, but it was there.

In my enjoyment of the smaller, simpler things on my ride, I ended up mashing up some pretty steep grades, climbing some impressive elevation on my early morning ride.

I ended up nearly matching my best pace on the very same hills that I used to just grind up. Except that this time, I rode with my head up, my eyes open, and my senses keenly aware of the beautiful things along my journey.

And the journey was all the sweeter because of it…