The Dirt Field

December is just beginning and winter training is well underway. I ride six days a week (one recovery ride, two days of intervals, two days of unstructured rides, and one big ride), lift weights three days a week, and do core work three days a week. I also work full time, try to sleep for eight or more hours a night, eat something like eight meals a day, and occasionally remember to call my parents and email my best friend. Thus, things like blog updates and keeping current on episodes of Gossip Girl fall by the wayside. The latter is a tragedy.

If you catch me in a bad moment, I will complain about this schedule and bitch about how I’m constantly tired, always getting ready for another workout, and so sick of taking showers twice a day. Hell, I’m a whiner in the best of moments, so I will probably complain no matter what. But here is the truth: I love it.

Winter training is fantastic. It makes you stronger, both physically and mentally. It is easy to ride on a warm day when a group ride is rolling out nearby and you’re high from last weekend’s race. It is less easy to ride alone for long hours in freezing temperatures when the next race isn’t for months. Finding the motivation to get on the bike and go forces you to remember that you love cycling, you love miles spent alone on country roads, you love believing that what you do today will matter six months from now.

It’s exhausting to do so much training, but not in a bad, detrimental way. My chiropractor began our appointment the other day by asking brightly, “So, did you take the week off?” [um, NO, did you stop seeing patients for a week?] and my massage therapist told me I should rest for a while. I understand why they are saying this – because I seem tired and admittedly a little achy – but what they do not understand is that it is okay to be tired. It is okay to work hard and surpass your limits; that is how you become better and stronger. Nobody tells Bradley Wiggins, “hey, you look a little beat, how about hanging up the bike for a bit?”

It’s not that I don’t respect the value of rest or acknowledging nagging pains. My knees act up at the end of long rides, my lower back continues to be a problem, and my new team shoes are causing pain and swelling on the outsides of my feet. But I’ve been doing this for a long time and already learned some hard lessons, so I know when to push and when to let off the gas. Everything is under control.

The best part about mind over matter [“if you don’t mind, the pain don’t matter”] is that it actually works. I’ve had long rides recently where ninety minutes in, I was in the hurt locker and wishing to be hit by an asteroid, but by the three hour mark, I’ve switched to auto-pilot and can steadily turn the cranks and enjoy the miles rolling by. This makes me optimistic about long stage races next season and reminds me of the beauty of winter training. It may be cold and tiring and filled with snot rockets and icy toes and solitary miles, but it is also perfect for refocusing on the beauty of the sport. Or as somebody perfectly described it, “the grit and the romance.”