Tough races don't beg forgiveness. They beat you up then go on their way. Saturday's Sand Creek Fall Classic shared with me just how tough 6 weeks "off" can be...
At the start of the 3-lap, 25 mile race I playfully burst off the front of the group with an effort of August-like fitness....
And after leading the entire first lap, I was feeling frisky. But by the time I'd recognized the self-induced prophecy of doom I'd set up for myself, it was too late. There's a lot to be said for "maintainance" and the last time I went at race-pace was no less than 6 weeks prior. How evident that would soon become...
At the start of lap 3 I was dilerious, punchy, and at one point fell completely off the trail into a scrub oak. Game over.
My mind was a blur; dominos of indescretion; awash is a sea of stars. I'd reached the point where every slow pedal stroke felt as empty as the hollow state of mind I was in...
Uh oh............
The very notion of abandoning a race is something I gave up no less than 13 years ago. But after a season of burying one's self out on the race course, the thought of giving in can simply become too much to bear.
I abandoned that race with my head low, and my tail between my legs. Sitting on a rock in the shade, wallowing, if only momentarily, at my decision, I came to a realization:
Knowledge is a tree. And it grows with time - but lessons will be learned, no matter how experienced one might be...
Simple lessons, people, simple lessons.....................
