Remember…....
“’It’s a bit of a cliché to say that we learn more from our mistakes than our successes”
There is no such thing as success, failure, happiness, depression, good taste (accounts for euro-trance). Not that people don’t feel these things, but that they’re convenient labels we tack on things. Your subjective experience of happiness is quite different from mine.
All these feeling states...
Routine or adventure?...
We reconstruct our lives bit by bit, day by day, year by year. Out lives take on a routine and then we bemoan that routine. Predictability, is a double edged blade of comfort and boredom. We long for it, we build it, and when we find it – we reject it.
Change is not always growth, but growth is always rooted in change. A finished person, like a finished house, is a static thing. Pleasant...
Self Containment...
Self Containment
Solitude
In recent years I have willingly embraced a lifestyle of solitude – self containment if you will. Feeding my convivial appetite for cycling in an attempt to concoct a stronger, more able athlete has certainly proved to be a challenge.
My training wans, sinking as I become wiled unintentionally to the company of friends and social comforts while home, pleasures of the flesh...
Letting Go III: Relationsh...
A recent 32 hour training week has found this opinionated cyclist scraped thin, like butter over toast. All else other than my habitual training routine has been set aside. And as a freelance writer my OC editorials are patiently sitting idle awaiting another edit before I post, when you write all day one no longer feels the itch to write for pleasure. For this reason the following is an article...
Part 1: The movement of F...
The Opinionated Cyclist is focused.
The Opinionated Cyclist feels twitchy today,. He gazes neath the brim of his LAS hexial helmet upon the road ahead. The scenery is nothing short of spectacular; a surreal environment of majestic mountains densely choked with trees, rivers and accompanied with few motorists or people. Smooth pavement snakes through the thick forage rising unpredictably as the steep...
Pain...
Phase 3 of training has commenced here in Asheville, NC. And this canuck has been re-united once more with his friend and ally, enemy and tyrant. Akin to a long lasting friend that is always there for you or an enemy you swore to defeat yet never could. I speak of pain, suffering and anguish. A pain so overwhelming, so deep in your mind, in your body one can only laugh as this is suffering performed...
Fear me!...
Quite recently I rode an intense weekly “race” here in Asheville. Rolling along at a brisk pace my entourage became frisky as decisive climbs approached. Twitching nervously, gripping their handlebars tightly, shoulders tensed, deft reaches for water bottles and food I thought about what mental state the cyclists surrounding me were in, the emotion governing their movement.
The gradient began...
Night and day – Night...
Night and day – Night
Quite recently this opinionated cyclist was confronted with a query – night or day? A rather simple question asked capriciously caught me off guard, thus I failed to summon a response worthy of said opinionated cyclist. My ability to delineate an opinion was curtailed from too much caffeine and the USA today, an excuse for my dubious reply, or at least this is what I would...
Journal Entry #2 – R...
The image most people probably have of professional cycling is of riders climbing the Alps, or cruising through the fan-filled streets of Paris. The chance to ride in the professional ranks certainly has it’s benefits, however very little time is spent sightseeing or doing what we please when we travel to new cities or countries If we are not training we are racing, recovering or eating –...
Mind Over Matter – A...
I wake this morning to the sound of gentle rain, a thick fog chokes our abode in dewy mist, a supple breeze blows through rustling the leaves – the time is 6am. My nose picks up a faint scent of fresh coffee as I rise from the bed in a sedative state. Consuming coffee 1# for the day, I find my senses as heightened as a brazen stallion at a stud farm eager to work. Cooking up my relegious...