Saturday, July 12, 2014

Gazelles and the Frozen Custard Demons

I'm been pretty lazy on getting updates in this blog, mostly because I'd rather be outside riding that inside writing. But here I am, and hopefully there are still a few people who care to read about my scattered thoughts.

Over the past few weeks, I've spent more time on my climbing, trying to pay attention and focus what I've doing right and what I'm doing wrong. Even though it's been hurting like crazy, when I can climb well, it makes me feel alive. At my height and weight, I'm certainly not a natural climber. I guess it's similar to when I was a kid and dreamed of being a race horse jockey, knowing that I wasn't small and light enough.

Last year was a time of recovery from my accident in 2012. And although I've come to realize that this year is still a point in that recovery process, I've been allowed, thru the grace of God, into another phase of that recovery. But this phase feels less like recovery and more like what it (riding) should feel like.

Sometimes I like to use visualizations to get me thru the painful parts of a ride. Back in '88 while riding across the harsh open Plains out West on my cross-country ride, to fight the heat of that year's nationwide drought, I imagined I was a white stallion galloping across open, snow-covered lands. It worked. As long as I could maintain that image in my mind, I felt the coolness of that dream.

These days. I find myself imagining that I am a winged gazelle. It all works until I remember the 1/2 gallon of frozen custard I had the night before, and how it haunts me with the searing pain in my legs, and lungs that are ready to burst.

Maybe my next vision should be that I was never a Wisconsinite and have no idea that frozen custard exists! ;)