I met a guy at my daughter’s swim practice who races Cat 5 and triathlons because he needs the races to keep his motivation to train.
While I get it, that’s not me. Not by a long shot. First, I don’t need anything for my motivation other than my bike, a matching kit, a matching helmet, matching socks, matching shoes… and matching shades.
You should know I have a wry grin stretched across my face.
In all seriousness, while I definitely understand the “I need a race to train” mindset, I don’t subscribe to it. All I need is a free hour (or three… or five).
However, an interesting question would be “Can you even consider what I do, training?”
While I’m not just “riding my bike” like I did when I was a kid, when I rode yesterday, an easy-paced 18 mile fun ride on roads I hardly ever ride, it had absolutely nothing to do with my next event… I went for the ride because I love to ride. I just choose to ride at a faster pace than most because it’s the speed that makes cycling so exciting and fun for me.
The point is not to exalt one way of cycling over another, let me make that perfectly clear. The point, if there must be one, is to simply say “Dude, it’s all good, whatever floats your boat and gets you off the couch, out the door, and puts a smile on your face”.
Cycling is an adventure sport, whether it’s the long way around the block or a supported ride or Fondo or a point A to points B,C,D and E camping trip… Cycling is a means of burning off dinner, or decades worth of dinners. Cycling is a means of getting from point A back to point A in the longest distance time will allow. Cycling is a way for friends to get fit and enjoy life together. It’s a sport to bring families together. Finally, and this is my favorite part, cycling is a way to thumb one’s nose at growing old. While there’s no fighting aging, cycling has clearly slowed down its debilitating affect on my body. If that weren’t enough (and it would be), it also provides a level of happiness and contentment (for reasons too numerous to list here) that is easily felt down to a person’s baby toes.
Whatever floats your boat, my friends, ride hard. Or not.