Life lessons from cycling.
Yesterday I went on a Ladies’ ride. Nat Go and I headed out of town to ride our gravel bikes. It was a glorious day and I was so happy to be on the bike. We had planned a leisurely shake-down gravel ride in anticipation of a big gravel bike event coming up in a week or two.
I love my gravel bike. It’s a chance to get away from the traffic and out into the countryside. Yesterday we saw buffalo and emu as we rolled through the country. I spent the first hour of the ride telling Nat how happy I was, how riding like this was good for the soul, and generally how great life was. It was a warm day and we made a pact to stop at the first pub we saw and have a shandy #livin.
We found the pub (ok it was a bar in a five-star hotel) about 50 km into our planned 90 km ride. We were out of water at this stage – so it was perfect timing. The shandy was delicious as were the scones and coffee that followed. As we climbed back onto our bikes I was thinking about how we really had our shit together that day. Life was great and everything was going well. Until suddenly an hour later, it wasn’t.
I still don’t know what happened, but at the 85 km mark, I was done – really done. Looking back, I had totally stuffed up my nutrition (maybe I was too happy to eat?!) and found myself deep in the heart of bonk town – population me. For the next 5 km I was a one-man pity party. I can’t remember the last time I bonked that bad. I couldn’t follow a wheel, all I could do was limp back to the car. I was miserable, in a world of hurt. I couldn’t really press on the pedals. I actually cursed at the wind, which had seemed to be a “reverse tailwind” for most of the day.
We got back to the car and headed to the nearest cafe. All we could find was a local servo where the smell of fresh unleaded petrol wafted through the dining eating area. I smashed down a huge chocolate milk and waited for those calories to kick in. I couldn’t stomach solid food. I’m not sure if it was the aroma of petrol or if I was just too miserable to chew. I was convinced at that stage, that my life was a total shit show. In the end, we cut our losses, jumped back in the car and headed home.
Of course, I slowly came back to the world of the living as all those milky, chocolatey calories found their way to my brain. A little lie down on the couch when I got home and a few litres of fluid later I was as good as gold.
Today as I happily look back, I think about the life lessons from that ride. On that ride, just like in real life, everything was rolling along beautifully until it wasn’t. One or two bad decisions, one little piece of bad luck and suddenly what was a beautiful thing had turned into a shit show. Sometimes life works that way too. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my 58 years of life it’s that there’s a fine line between having your shit together and a total shit-show.
If only chocolate milk solved all of life’s problems……
