The long ride as a joy of "ordinary living"

I wrote an opinion piece in 2017 about the art of the “long ride” and how developing the endurance to execute them plays into the “joy of (my) ordinary living. One of my 2017 goals was to continue to embrace the discipline of long endurance training as part of my “ordinary” living. as I approached 50.

This photo of me atop the mighty Ventoux in August after a hundred kilometre solo pedal to reach the summit is a reflection of my pathway of learning to assimilate longer tougher rides into part of DNA - ie when presented with the opportunity, a long ride is now simply “what I do”. It’s interesting to reflect on where the last four years has taken me in terms of “ordinary living”, however, being generally conditioned enough year round to perfect a longer ride, when desired, has been a priority for me. Why? Largely because I believe that how you approach sport is a good indictment of how you approach life. Therefore, if I am training myself to be resilient and mentally tough on a long ride, then I’m also training those abilities to spill over into the problem solving I do in the rest of my life. To be able to do long tough rides solo also requires you to have a strong “WHY” for doing so. I believe to live well also requires that same “WHY”.

I started this particular ride to Ventoux mentally feeling out of sorts - guiding can be hard work and sometimes there’s little opportunity to decompress! This is part of the role and I am usually accepting of it. Being given this window opened the floodgates of thought within my mind, and as I pedalled, I embraced the journey - through some rain, some wind, some blistering temperatures, a storm at the top of the mountain. It was reflective of my psychological journey - what felt like rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light, and then finally, inner peace. Not to mention some excellent French cheese on my arrival back to base - another aspect that makes what I do really rewarding.

Here’s what I had to write about a long solo 160km loop (Fernvale loop) that I did in 2017 when training for the Lake Taupo Challenge (the WHY of that time)

There have been some long rides, some of them quite tough, but I have framed them in what I describe as “ordinary living” as there are people all over the world doing long tough rides, day in and day out, simply because it is part of what makes up life. The more I’ve continued to write and think about “being epic” on the way to fifty, the more “ordinary” I begin to realise my life is. This observation isn’t to lament that I’m not good enough, but rather to reframe the idea of what a well lived life is. In the area of sport and fitness, my goals are to experience as much as I can with what I already have.

I recently picked up a textbook called the “Psychology of Champions” which states that only the most gifted athletes aim for mastery, competence and to push the limits and that ordinary athletes are more concerned with what other people think of them, rather than rising up to a challenge. I’d like to call that particular statement a complete load of rubbish. Throughout my life, I have been witness to everyday people doing extraordinary things whilst pushing their own personal boundaries, whether it be to run a marathon, lift scarily heavy weights or race bikes.

Adding here in 2024, my experience of ageing and racing bikes or completing events is that a fierce competitive desire or pursuit of relentless excellence does not wane with age. Our bodies may be slowly changing, but the mind does not. It’s comforting to know that we are still striving to reach our best potential irrespective of age.

Now, back to 2017….

For me, the daily ritual of training and refining my ‘craft’ is but one reason that I continue to try and reach my best potential, even though that falls way short of elite standards. “Doing the work” in preparing for an event is not always easy, not always fun, sometimes it’s a bit mundane, but ultimately, it’s always satisfying. I was reminded of this a few weeks ago doing a long hilly ride known as the Fernvale Loop. The route was hot, hilly and the bitumen unforgiving – and it’s at these times that I stare down the relationship that my mental health has with riding a bike and doing the work. It’s been written about in a more eloquent fashion than I’m doing here, but there’s something about a hard ride where you start off with raging storms of dysfunctional thought invading every brain cell and fibre of your being, and subsequently finishing a long ride like a limp rag, utterly spent physically and mentally, yet thinking with a calmness and clarity that has transcended the effort. To paraphrase Dr Seuss, I have spent many rides “thinking all the thinks I could possibly think”.

It makes me give thought to the many riders that would have hopped on their bike last weekend, partaken in a long training ride, ruminated about life and felt better for all the “thinks” they had along the way.

Do you feel the same about your long rides?