Four years ago we were in St. Catharines, Ontario for our annual academic event (called “Congress”). Catherine, Christine, Sam and I went out for a morning bike ride and this got me posting about riding and hills. I don’t ride this type of riding anymore, but reading about the anguish of my former cycling self and seeing the determination to “get it” made me feel good. That last line got me, “I want that beautiful, pure look to come over me, the look that says: I thought this was impossible for me, but it’s not.” I did get that with cycling. I did get that with triathlon. And I’m still getting that with running. May you also get that look if you’ve not already. Happy #tbt!
I’m just going to come right out and say it: when I’m riding my road bike, I’m terrified of having to go up hills. I imagine hitting my limit, with no gears left to downshift to, grinding to a halt, and toppling over.
This almost happened when I was out on that canal ride with Catherine, Christine, and Sam last weekend. On a really short and not even steep hill, Catherine tried to give me an impromptu lesson on hill climbing. She’s an experienced rider who has run clinics and workshops, so lucky me that she is so willing to share her wisdom. The trouble is, I’m the kind of learner who needs to know what I’m about to learn.
So a lesson on the fly doesn’t always work for me. I need an explicit account of what I’m trying to achieve. Maybe that’s overthinking things…
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