One week down and it's getting real

I must start by thanking every one who has taken the time out of their busy lives to read my first effort in sharing this challenge I have set myself. It it truly humbling to think that there are other folk out there who may be interested in what I have to say. Any one who knows me does understand that I can talk to great lengths about pretty much any thing. Sometimes I may even know what I am talking about. Most of the time I don't. No doubt you all recognize this glaring flaw. The honest truth is that I am by nature painfully introverted. Meeting new people scares me. Large crowds are intimidating and for me it is a daily push and pull in my mind to pretend I am confident when the reality is that there is a little girl trapped inside this rapidly ageing body fighting a daily battle to not run at the first glimpse of discomfort in social situations. And to be perfectly honest, my biggest challenge right now is to document these vulnerabilities. The rouse of a cycling story is merely a smoke screen to protect myself from this the biggest of all challenges. To be heard. So thank you all, you are my personal therapy.

My first week of my pursuit of athletic prowess and dominance started with my first ever road race. The Bev May Classic. A perfect introduction to racing. Local, and on roads I was familiar with. For weeks before the race, every time I thought about it my body was flooded with nerves, my tummy performing flips constantly. I think these nerves were a subtle blend of fear and excitement. Part of me felt stupid for entering while other parts were buzzing with anticipation. Upon announcing to Gary that I wanted to race, his response was that I best start a training program, rather than riding around the Waikato with the direction of a headless chook. Hence my foray into flash things such as power meters and computer headsets that know more about me than I do. Slightly alarming. Over the past 10 or so months, I have become a regular at our bike shop. Blair, Alex and the crew at Spoken have been amazing with me. This is another environment that to me was hugely confronting. Walking into a space that I have zero knowledge about, and with the certainty of death and taxes I never failed to amaze myself with how clumsy and awkward I was. The boy's genuine encouragement and kindness has been a massive help. Blair was the bright spark who suggested I may as well ride Nats seeing as I have paid for a license now. So it is he who I thank, and sometimes blame for where all of this is going. Perhaps one of my most horrific moments was one chilly morning, it must have been May last year. Gary was racing locally and he invited me for coffee with the boys before hand. OMG. I get to have coffee with these weapons of cycling. I was nervous. As every one was preparing to leave I chose to get out there early, so I can get myself pointing in the right direction to mitigate any potential for disaster. Cool, one foot carefully clipped in, and ready to go. Some how I managed to forget which foot that was and before I knew it I had toppled over from a complete stand still causing a loud bike sized game of dominos. Alex very swiftly extracted me from my self inflicted leg clamp and reintroduced the chain to the ring on my bike and was kindly offered words along the lines of every one has done it. Somehow I doubt that, but as the tears of humiliation stung my eyes he gave me some comfort. To this day not one person has mentioned this incident again, any way, I digress, back to the race and the hasty effort to train for it.

Now armed with a nifty gadget that displays just how much (little) power my body can produce to torment me relentlessly, and a carefully crafted training schedule from coach I headed boldly into the realm of structured training. Gee, the numbers could have lied a little, give a girl a break. But the real fun is getting back to WiFi asap so my efforts can be recorded and analyzed. Because if I can't see it on my lap top it didn't happen right? That is the world we are trapped in. And I feel a little sad for our younger people who live their lives through devices with the pressure of needing to share and post every move for fear of their lives being considered of no value without the likes and shares of instant gratification. But I am a victim of this narrow minded reward system. But here is a moment of revelation - structure works. In just a couple of weeks there was measurable improvements. By following a plan and digging deep when it's hurting gains happen.

The night before my race I didn't sleep well. What if I crash? Please don't hurt someone else. Am I strong enough? I hope I don't get dropped. Gary and I were up pretty early and he assumed the role of chief mechanic and psych therapist. We got there far too early and try as I might I could not just chill out. No doubt I burnt all of my matches in nervous energy that morning. As we were drafted into our relevant race groups at the start, I couldn't help but make the comparison between where I was and lambs awaiting their fate. Please let us just roll. Finally we were sent on our way and in that moment the switch went over in me. No nerves. It was good to be there. The race went quickly, I made loads of errors and actually managed to win a sprint, and despite climbing like a stone I was there at the pointy end. Not placed, but not dead either and I didn't kill any one else. That counts as a resounding success. I was proud and disappointed all at once. Yet I have learned that I can be struggling and come out the other side, stronger and smarter from the experience. I pray I can convince my own children that it is OK to be in the box, begging for it to stop, but you must keep pushing, as the reward on the other side is immeasurable.

This past week has been the first of an increased load in the training block. Gym for strength and mobility three times a week along with some pretty grisly rides. A friend of ours cheerfully greeted me with 'you look knackered' on Saturday. Somehow I thought I had that fact very carefully concealed. Fool. Yet I feel great. There is purpose. And day by day I hurtle towards 18 April, COVID permitting. So whatever comes my way over the next 7 weeks I wish for health and watts. And that we may actually get to race.

Thank you again for reading thus far, I am enjoying trying to articulate myself. The warm glow of knowing there are others out there willing to listen to me gives me strength and inspiration to keep on trucking. Until next time ...........