internet dating intervals

The Training Peaks app for the iphone changed on me a few updates ago. That was, more accurately,weeks ago. Like the friend who comes back from studying abroad, cultured and well-dressed, it threw me off. The new app is clean, snazzy, kind of complicated-looking, and all I could do was stare in disbelief and slight disappointment. I wanted the old TP app back, the one whose wardrobe consisted of three colors - blue, black, and white - not like 10 million, including pastels.

The change, and my discomfort with the change, reemphasized something else: that my attempts to ease back into things for the past three five or so weeks have been as graceful as a belly flop from a 10 ft diving board. I've been chasing my own form, rear wheel usually locked in my trainer, acutely aware that there has been something missing for some time. Meanwhile, it is already September, CX is coming here, and I am still, still shifting into the little ring on climbs. That last one would trigger an army of sighs if I was actually capable of breathing. Like setting up an online dating profile, it's a necessary move that still sparks some unsettling sense of acquiesing to a suboptimal situation. Am I really doing this? I ask myself, while the other, more practical side of me that tends to encourage not shredding my legs on 3% grades [or never getting laid, as the case may be,] says, firmly, yes, yes you are. The physical movement of my left middle finger pushing inwards turns into a mute response.

Passive-aggressive gestures aside, the hard part is that I'm aware that it's not just the legs that have to be built back up, but that loss of confidence. The knowledge that I can reel that guy in, that I can make it up this climb, that increasingly harder intervals aren't going to kill me, that Internet dating doesn't mean I'm either physically repulsive or have a terrible personality. The physical and mental discomfort are prerequisites to getting to a better place, I've been told. That doesn't make the situation suck less, but you might end up faster for it. Or your date might actually turn out to look like his picture and not be a complete weirdo. And if not, well, you just gotta keep trying. Because there is a light at the end of the tunnel. You're just so far back you can't see it yet.

That last one doesn't inspire much confidence, I know. But like the 50 [million] friends you have that are currently engaged/happily married to [attractive, sane, and interesting] people they met online, reality rebuts the anticipated pessimism. It will always feel like grasping at straws, the glimmer of hope remaining frustratingly elusive. But that promise of potential still manages to keep me in the red, be it with shitty online dates or oxygen deprivation. Because the millionth time's the charm, right?
Or that's what I keep telling myself, anyway. This morning, I caught myself going through the same mental games, trying to con myself into believing that a ten minute interval was a five minute one, just so I would hate myself a little less. As always, it worked, but not very well. Still, I found myself graduating from cheering ["come on, you can do this!"] to a sustained conviction ["you just did this, you'll be fine"]. I realized only later that I'd managed to spin - half kicking and screaming - back to the edge of confidence, where doubt wasn't constantly simmering in my stomach. Like a seasoned speed dater, I'd arrived at that mental place where I know I'll survive, that failures aren't always a reflection on inately unchangeable parts of my personality, and that optimism can take you a long way.
Okay...maybe not through a really crappy Internet date, but, you know, at least through a few Tabatas.

august selection

A day late, but I've been playing catch-up all month!
- The scent of a female cyclist...?

- Mission Workshop's Orion jacket looks awesome, and is definitely triggering some jealousy [no womens'sizes???]. But as a friend pointed out, "how do they expect to sell a $415 jacket with a bike set up like that?"

- For amazing [cycling-related, of course,] photography, check out Chris Milliman's redesigned blog.

- Shoes of Eurobike 2013. Because, well, shoes.

- And I'll be daydreaming of the Muro di Sormano today as I head into work, courtesy of this amazing video by the talented Grubers:

Muro di Sormano from Jered Gruber on Vimeo.

Have a great day, guys!

a friendship in review

Hey,
I realized, on my pre-Vuelta ride this weekend, that we’ve kind of come a long way. It hasn’t been long since we’ve known each other – almost a year and a half – but you’ve been with me through some hard times. Remember that crash back in October last year that left me with a left arm that still doesn’t work so good? And the weird health problems that kind of floored me for six months this year? You stuck around, through all of it. I guess that’s what real friends are made of.
Our easy friendship wasn’t always like this, was it? I remember when I met you for the first time. You seemed a little too much for me; just really cool and something I didn’t really deserve to know. I was kind of overwhelmed, actually. And maybe that’s why, when we started to go on rides together, I started to toe the line of co-dependence. I felt a little paralyzed when you just needed to recharge your batteries and couldn’t ride with me. It’s a little embarrassing to admit now, but there were a few times I almost didn’t ride because you weren’t around. Okay, full disclosure: I panicked because you claimed you were at like 3%, that you'd only last 10 minutes on the bike. I thought, "well, how could I ride then?" I did, though, but it was close.

Can you blame me? We became inseparable pretty quickly. I’d always have my face in yours, and we’d do that thing where we’d stare into each other’s eyes for dangerously long periods of time while we were coasting along. I totally almost crashed into stuff like 10 times. You remember that, right?
And when I got my power meter, you were as excited as I was! You pushed me when I needed it, but also showed me when I had to dial it back a little and relax. I’ve always sucked at the latter, but you were right; I made some crazy gains with your help. I eventually got used to looking at you – I guess you became familiar – but I never stopped thinking you were pretty sexy. You’re smaller than some, sure, but I think it makes you more adorable. Like I want to just tuck you into my pocket and take you all around Tokyo.

I could go on and on about the times we've had, and I know you'll recall all of it, too (I've always admired how easily you remember things). I'm not paralyzed without you on rides anymore; I actually like our weekend deals where we ride around, not so much focused on each other anymore, but still together. I think you like it, too (if only for the safety factor).
There's more we'll see, I'm sure. Different countries, places, friends. I expect you to call me on my BS ("yeah you wish your FTP was that high"), and to never lie to me about the grade of an incline ("are you seriously suffering this hard on a 12%?"). In return, I will keep you sheltered, fed, and firmly attached to my stem. Promise. Cross my heart.

Because we've come this far together, Garmin 500. I don't intend to trade you in for anything else.
oxox, k