upyourcadence.wordpress.com
Thursday, June 4, 2015
WE MOVED!!!
For a number of reasons, I switched over to wordpress! You can find new (as well as old) posts at:
upyourcadence.wordpress.com
upyourcadence.wordpress.com
Friday, May 22, 2015
Midwest Tour Day 4.... 0 miles
Finally the rest day I was waiting for. Not surprisingly I slept in on Lipsitz's couch, which felt great after three days of hard riding. I hope I never get to a point in my life that I'm unwilling to crash on a friend's couch.
After a breakfast of overnight oats, a cyclist's best friend, I headed up to campus. Funny story, Denison is at the top of a giant hill and part of me wants to say that walking up that hill took more effort than biking the 400 miles to Denison from Chicago.
I went to the Denison library and used my elite hacking abilities the login credentials Lipsitz gave me to get into the Denison computers for internet. I worked on some random stuff, including writing a post for this blog - yes I do actually do that once in awhile. Overall it was nice to not have to worry about biking for one day, even if I knew that three more long days were to follow.
After a quick stop at the Denison bookstore for obligatory stickers, I met up with Lipsitz and we headed into Granville, the town that Denison is located in. To be honest that afternoon is a bit of a blur, but I do remember getting a hot dog and probably eating more than is necessary for a normal person.
Oh yeah, and this happened at some point back at Lipsitz's apartment. The napchatting never stops. Also, I'M the one who just biked 400 miles to get here and you fall asleep?!
What I do remember is that eventually I somehow ended up at Lipsitz's sorority house, where she gave a presentation on the 4K and what it was like to spend 70 days riding a bicycle. In one sense the whole experience was comical - this short big haired extremely tan Asian guy, out of place in a well decorated sorority house filled with a bunch of Denison students who despite the brief introduction by Lipsitz was wondering who the hell I was.
In a different sense however it wasn't silly at all. As she told me prior to her presentation, Lipsitz wasn't sure how to bring up Jamie and her death this summer. In fact I think our entire team often struggles with how to bring Jamie up. I struggle with knowing if and when to bring it up - because I feel that if I don't tell someone about Jamie I am leaving out a huge chunk of what this summer was like. At the same time I feel that if I bring it up too quickly or at the wrong time I'll be giving the wrong impression of the trip - that it was only dark and filled with grief. Of course the truth is that the trip was all of those things, the best and worst times of my life, filled with grief and joy all at the same time, depressing but also inspirational.
Miss you
Sometimes I'm forced awkwardly to reveal the story of Jamie Roberts. Once during my TEFL certification course I was asked in jest whether anyone hadn't made it the entire trip on the 4K. I didn't want to lie so I told them about Jamie, which as you can imagine elicited some seriously awkward apologies. Maybe Lipsitz felt like she was in a similar situation, having to give a quick and brief presentation about a summer that is possibly the most meaningful in her life in so many ways.
After the presentation, we met up with our 4K teammate Dan who at the time attended Kenyon University, about 30 miles away (he just graduated from Kenyon, so congratulations to him). The bastard Dan had the audacity to suggest that Lipsitz and I drive over to Kenyon, after I biked all the way from Chicago. Actually in retrospect that could have been cool, as I would have had a chance to visit Kenyon, but oh well.
If you don't pay attention to the fact that Lipsitz is obviously hunching over, I look almost as tall as she is...
I ate yet another giant burger, and we reminisced about the 4K, how crazy our team is, and more. I confess it's also a blur, but I remember feeling content and happy that I had managed to bike all the way to Denison from Chicago (with a quick shuttle in the middle). No matter that I had the entire ride back left...
Monday, May 18, 2015
Midwest Tour Day 3 out of 6
Yes I have decided it is worth riding about this day... I know it's been about eight months since I did this ride, but I still want to write about it. Afterall, I put a lot of effort into those days of riding (certainly more than the amount of effort I've put into writing about them), and more importantly, encountered a lot of amazing people who helped me along the way in numerous ways.
I know my memory of these days will be spotty at this point, but I do have a few notes jotted down here and there, as well as photos that will help me out. Not to mention, it's pretty hard to forget four days when you cycled something like 500 miles.
But since it has been so long indeed, let me do a quick recap of what this ride was all about, as well as how the first two days went.
Pre-ride
As the 4K 2014 ride was drawing near the end, my teammate Emily Lipsitz (who just graduated from Denison, so congratulations on that) and I made plans for her to drive to Chicago to visit me sometime in September. Unfortunately it turned out that when you're not on the 4K, you have to pay attention to things like school, work, and daily life. It became clear that it would be difficult for Lipsitz to come visit me in Chicago. Of course the next logical step was for me to say, well why don't I just come out to you on my bike? So began this week of madness, of six days of riding and one day of rest in the middle, spanning three states, two hosts in the middle, some 800 miles of riding, endless rows of corn, and of course more Subway and Jimmy Johns sandwiches.
Day 1
I don't think I could have asked for a better day to start this tour. I had good wind almost the entire day, and aside from one short stretch, the roads were very safe and almost empty of traffic. Although 130 miles is certainly nothing to sneer at, the miles passed quickly and without incident and even at the end I felt fresh and ready for more.
I suppose the worst part was that I felt lonely sometimes during the day, but messages from my teammates got me through. I also got to meet Caity and Jin, my generous hosts for the night. Caity is a 2011 San Francisco alum, so while things were awkward between us for about 0.001 seconds, it ended as soon as we started talking about the 4K and trading stories. Fortunately, Jin was familiar with how 4K alums are and made it clear that it wasn't an issue for me and Caity to talk non-stop about the 4K.
Day 2
After a great first day, the second day proved to be much more difficult. Despite the fact I was headed west to east, which according to wikipedia and google is the same overall direction as the large wind patterns in North America, I had a headwind the entire day. I remember even at the beginning of the day thinking that this day would be incredibly difficult, but fortunately thanks to messages of encouragement from my teammates and friends, I kept spinning.
This day also had a dark episode in its midst. When I got to the Cardinal Greenway, a beautiful path of around 40 miles, I found out that minutes prior to my arrival a cyclist had been not paying enough attention as he crossed over traffic and had been killed. Although I can't be positive, I'm fairly certain I actually saw the ambulance carrying his body drive away in the distance. A dark reminder of the dangers of cycling for sure.
Unfortunately the day proved to be too tough for me, as I was not able to finish all of my miles. Long story short, I got lost quite a bit and discovered myself much further from my destination for the night than I should have been. My hosts for the night, Brian and Lori were kind enough to pick me up. While at first I was incredibly disappointed, I thought it through and decided it was the right decision to shuttle. It was quickly becoming dark and while I had planned for the possibility of biking at night, because I was lost now there were roads that I would have had to take that I hadn't cleared yet in terms of safety. In a more comical sense, I figured it was the hallmark of a true 4K ride to get lost and have to get shuttled at least once. Plus this way I got to spend a little bit of time with Brian and Lori and chat, so for all these reasons I decided I would shrug off the fact that I hadn't been able to finish. I managed to complete about 150 miles, which I felt good about.
Pre-ride
As the 4K 2014 ride was drawing near the end, my teammate Emily Lipsitz (who just graduated from Denison, so congratulations on that) and I made plans for her to drive to Chicago to visit me sometime in September. Unfortunately it turned out that when you're not on the 4K, you have to pay attention to things like school, work, and daily life. It became clear that it would be difficult for Lipsitz to come visit me in Chicago. Of course the next logical step was for me to say, well why don't I just come out to you on my bike? So began this week of madness, of six days of riding and one day of rest in the middle, spanning three states, two hosts in the middle, some 800 miles of riding, endless rows of corn, and of course more Subway and Jimmy Johns sandwiches.
Day 1
I don't think I could have asked for a better day to start this tour. I had good wind almost the entire day, and aside from one short stretch, the roads were very safe and almost empty of traffic. Although 130 miles is certainly nothing to sneer at, the miles passed quickly and without incident and even at the end I felt fresh and ready for more.
I suppose the worst part was that I felt lonely sometimes during the day, but messages from my teammates got me through. I also got to meet Caity and Jin, my generous hosts for the night. Caity is a 2011 San Francisco alum, so while things were awkward between us for about 0.001 seconds, it ended as soon as we started talking about the 4K and trading stories. Fortunately, Jin was familiar with how 4K alums are and made it clear that it wasn't an issue for me and Caity to talk non-stop about the 4K.
Runner / person extraordinaire Caity
Day 2
After a great first day, the second day proved to be much more difficult. Despite the fact I was headed west to east, which according to wikipedia and google is the same overall direction as the large wind patterns in North America, I had a headwind the entire day. I remember even at the beginning of the day thinking that this day would be incredibly difficult, but fortunately thanks to messages of encouragement from my teammates and friends, I kept spinning.
This day also had a dark episode in its midst. When I got to the Cardinal Greenway, a beautiful path of around 40 miles, I found out that minutes prior to my arrival a cyclist had been not paying enough attention as he crossed over traffic and had been killed. Although I can't be positive, I'm fairly certain I actually saw the ambulance carrying his body drive away in the distance. A dark reminder of the dangers of cycling for sure.
Unfortunately the day proved to be too tough for me, as I was not able to finish all of my miles. Long story short, I got lost quite a bit and discovered myself much further from my destination for the night than I should have been. My hosts for the night, Brian and Lori were kind enough to pick me up. While at first I was incredibly disappointed, I thought it through and decided it was the right decision to shuttle. It was quickly becoming dark and while I had planned for the possibility of biking at night, because I was lost now there were roads that I would have had to take that I hadn't cleared yet in terms of safety. In a more comical sense, I figured it was the hallmark of a true 4K ride to get lost and have to get shuttled at least once. Plus this way I got to spend a little bit of time with Brian and Lori and chat, so for all these reasons I decided I would shrug off the fact that I hadn't been able to finish. I managed to complete about 150 miles, which I felt good about.
My silly hosts, Lori and Brian
The very sweet Ava
Day 3
Finally the day that got me all the day to Denison. Fortunately this was the shortest day in my ride at approximately 100 miles, which is certainly a long distance, but compared to 130 or 150, isn't so bad. So in the morning I didn't rush too much - I slept in a bit, I took my time to eat a big meal of oatmeal, pet Ava, talk to Lori (Brian had left early for work). It was a nice mini break after two long days of riding.
Unfortunately, I was a bit too relaxed, because next thing I knew it was almost noon and I had yet to leave. Like I said, this day was a relatively short day of riding, but still it was a terrible idea to leave only at noon. So I quickly said goodbye to Lori and started my ride.
One thing this day of riding showed me was how cycling friendly Ohio is, especially compared to Indiana. During the first two days of riding, which were almost entirely in Indiana, most people I encountered had looked at me like I was some kind of alien. Granted I probably looked a bit weird, decked out in tight shorts, but as soon as I crossed into Ohio people would talk to me about where I had come from, where I was riding to, etc. During the 4K we had talked about how Ohio seemed very cycling friendly because of all the bike paths that ran from city to city (and not just within a city), and this day definitely confirmed what I remembered.
One of the highlights was when several hours into the ride I stopped at a gas station and talked to a couple of guys in a pickup truck. Unfortunately for cyclists the phrase "a couple of guys in a pickup truck" is sometimes associated with screaming "get of the road!" or driving past way too fast and close. But not in Ohio, as these guys were curious about my jersey which had the 4K logo on it, why I was doing this ride (they also thought I was crazy, but in a good way I suppose), and so forth. Such conversations, even if they were short and isolated, helped keep the loneliness away.
However, something new in Ohio that was not so welcome, at least for this ride, were hills. From my general cycling experience, Illinois is flat is as a table, Indiana is mostly flat, but Ohio is hilly. Maybe not Pennsylvania level, but still quite hilly - the Midwest as a whole is less flat than their geographical reputations would suggest. These hills of course meant that I was covering the 100 miles a bit more slowly than I had anticipated. Although the riding was beautiful, especially as a large part of it was on paths, it was taking its toll on my legs and there was less and less daylight left.
As I rushed through Columbus and found myself about 25 miles away from Denison, I had a rather comical companion for a bit, my first wheel sucker! For those of you who don't know, a wheel sucker is a cyclist who drafts behind another cyclist to take advantage of the slipstream, without ever returning the favor to the other cyclist. In case the name "wheel SUCKER" wasn't obvious enough, it's a rather negative term. Perhaps wheel sucking is acceptable when racing (although not really), but definitely not so courteous when touring or commuting.
What happened is that I passed the other cyclist as we were both climbing up a fairly steep hill. It was the first cyclist I had seen in a long time, so I initially thought it would be nice to ride with him for a bit. But then again he seemed to be moving a bit too slowly for me to make it to Denison before dark so I passed him, only to turn around about a minute after and find him riding directly behind my wheel. Apparently the chance to wheel suck me was the inspiration this guy needed to go faster, and he really wheel sucked. If we had been racing I almost would have been impressed by how closely he stuck to my wheel. Initially I didn't mind him drafting as I thought he might offer to let me draft in a moment, but nope. Perhaps I wouldn't have minded if I hadn't just biked some 350 miles in the past three days. I'll stop before I get carried away with this rant.
I had relatively smooth ride the rest of the way. Although most of the roads into Denison had no shoulder and were hilly and rather covered by trees, overall the drivers were great and patient and passed me safely. Unfortunately there was an exception in one impatient driver. I was climbing up a small hill in a wooded area where visibility was poor. The car directly behind me was being patient, waiting to pass me only after I cleared the hill and you could actually see whether there might be a car coming in the other direction. But the driver behind that car didn't want to wait, and attempted to pass both of us, only to discover that there was indeed a car coming in the other direction and be forced to swerve back into the lane. Fortunately a potentially disastrous accident was narrowly averted, but it was a grim reminder of how some people seem willing to risk not only their life but also the lives of others to save an extra 15-30 seconds. I'll always be mystified by the fact that cars seem to make normal people so angry and careless sometimes.
I kept spinning, aware that the sun was setting, and that I had to make it to a bike path that would take me all the way into Denison. When I was about a mile away from the path, Lipsitz called and asked if I needed a pickup because it was already dark. I politely declined, turned on my front and rear lights, and continued. Fortunately I have ridiculously bright lights that border on being obnoxious. So lit up like a disco ball, I cautiously made it to the bike path, ate a couple of energy chomps, and gave everything I had left in the last five miles.
Of course the moment I got into Denison I ended up lost for a few minutes. My phone GPS seemed to give up suddenly with no explanation and it was difficult to navigate in the dark. Fortunately after a few minutes and a few unnecessary climbs up a big hill, I managed to find Lipsitz, who was waiting for me with a giant cheeseburger with every kind of meat on it.
One of the highlights was when several hours into the ride I stopped at a gas station and talked to a couple of guys in a pickup truck. Unfortunately for cyclists the phrase "a couple of guys in a pickup truck" is sometimes associated with screaming "get of the road!" or driving past way too fast and close. But not in Ohio, as these guys were curious about my jersey which had the 4K logo on it, why I was doing this ride (they also thought I was crazy, but in a good way I suppose), and so forth. Such conversations, even if they were short and isolated, helped keep the loneliness away.
However, something new in Ohio that was not so welcome, at least for this ride, were hills. From my general cycling experience, Illinois is flat is as a table, Indiana is mostly flat, but Ohio is hilly. Maybe not Pennsylvania level, but still quite hilly - the Midwest as a whole is less flat than their geographical reputations would suggest. These hills of course meant that I was covering the 100 miles a bit more slowly than I had anticipated. Although the riding was beautiful, especially as a large part of it was on paths, it was taking its toll on my legs and there was less and less daylight left.
As I rushed through Columbus and found myself about 25 miles away from Denison, I had a rather comical companion for a bit, my first wheel sucker! For those of you who don't know, a wheel sucker is a cyclist who drafts behind another cyclist to take advantage of the slipstream, without ever returning the favor to the other cyclist. In case the name "wheel SUCKER" wasn't obvious enough, it's a rather negative term. Perhaps wheel sucking is acceptable when racing (although not really), but definitely not so courteous when touring or commuting.
I had relatively smooth ride the rest of the way. Although most of the roads into Denison had no shoulder and were hilly and rather covered by trees, overall the drivers were great and patient and passed me safely. Unfortunately there was an exception in one impatient driver. I was climbing up a small hill in a wooded area where visibility was poor. The car directly behind me was being patient, waiting to pass me only after I cleared the hill and you could actually see whether there might be a car coming in the other direction. But the driver behind that car didn't want to wait, and attempted to pass both of us, only to discover that there was indeed a car coming in the other direction and be forced to swerve back into the lane. Fortunately a potentially disastrous accident was narrowly averted, but it was a grim reminder of how some people seem willing to risk not only their life but also the lives of others to save an extra 15-30 seconds. I'll always be mystified by the fact that cars seem to make normal people so angry and careless sometimes.
I kept spinning, aware that the sun was setting, and that I had to make it to a bike path that would take me all the way into Denison. When I was about a mile away from the path, Lipsitz called and asked if I needed a pickup because it was already dark. I politely declined, turned on my front and rear lights, and continued. Fortunately I have ridiculously bright lights that border on being obnoxious. So lit up like a disco ball, I cautiously made it to the bike path, ate a couple of energy chomps, and gave everything I had left in the last five miles.
Of course the moment I got into Denison I ended up lost for a few minutes. My phone GPS seemed to give up suddenly with no explanation and it was difficult to navigate in the dark. Fortunately after a few minutes and a few unnecessary climbs up a big hill, I managed to find Lipsitz, who was waiting for me with a giant cheeseburger with every kind of meat on it.
Guess which one of us is covered in sweat and grime
Lipsitz's caption for this picture that she sent to our 4K team, although slightly misleading as there were still some 400 mile to go in the Tour de Midwest
I felt relieved that I had made it, proud, thrilled, giddy even. However I also felt a bit nervous that I had only made it halfway, that I would have three more days of riding. My legs felt so dense and heavy I wondered how I would ever make it all the way back to Chicago. But hey these worries could wait another day and I would take full advantage of my rest day in Denison.
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Boulder, CO... AGAIN?
My new thing is to write more frequently, because I believe that like most other things, becoming a better writer isn't just about being smart or creative, but practicing. So I'm making it my new thing to put up a blog post as often as I can, ideally between once a week to once every ten days or so.
My other new thing is that I have relocated to Boulder, CO. You know, no big deal. But really, when you consider how much I have been pinging around place to place in the past year, it really isn't too big of a deal.
Just kidding. Boulder is pretty amazing. The first thing that greets you on arrival (at least if you fly) is that the sky seems so much bigger and the sun brighter. Perhaps it's because I'm most used to the gloomy grey sky that belongs to Chicago for much of the year or perhaps it's just my overactive imagination, but when I left the Denver Airport I thought I was going to go blind from how bright it was.
As usual, my plan had been to show up to Boulder and figure out things as they came, but thankfully my 4K teammate "cool mom" Caitlyn was kind enough to drive up from Colorado Springs to pick me up at the Denver airport and drive me to Boulder. I am also lucky to have 4K friends in Boulder, on whose air mattress I have been crashing for over a week now (thanks Bradley and Chelsea and co).
For those of you who followed my 4K trip last year on this blog, we actually went through Boulder on our way to Portland. It was definitely among our team's favorite stops, which is partly why I came out here. Of course visiting a town is different than living there, but I would say so far Boulder has lived up to the hype, and I can see why it is often called the happiest city in America. But of course there is no such thing as a perfect place (or a thing that I can't complain about), so here are my thoughts on Boulder after living here for a week, listed somewhat randomly.
Great commuting by biking- I don't think there is anywhere I have been in America that is as bike friendly as Boulder. I suppose this is easier to accomplish in a smaller city like Boulder, but still I'm amazed by just how many bike lanes and paths are spread throughout the entire city. A big plus is that bike paths are designed such that you don't have to constantly stop at every light, making commuting by bike much faster.
Proximity to the Rockies- I love the Appalachians and their general greenness, but in terms of embodying the essence of "mountain-ness", it's pretty hard to dispute that the Rockies reign supreme in North America. They are where I first saw snow in July, where I first suffered from altitude sickness.
Privilege and leisure - this is one thing I'm not so crazy about Boulder. A lot of people point out that Boulder is very white, but that isn't what I care about. What I care about is the sense of privilege and leisure that people have in Boulder. If I might be brutally frank and describe it in the worst terms possible, Boulder is the city where the wealthy come to get away from the problems of the poor. I've heard the term "Boulder Bubble" multiple times already, and it is very real. By no means is everyone here is rich, and I've loved my stay in Boulder so far. But as one of my friends said, yeah it's great that Boulder has no crime, but that also means it doesn't get to have any superheroes. What's a city without superheroes?
My other new thing is that I have relocated to Boulder, CO. You know, no big deal. But really, when you consider how much I have been pinging around place to place in the past year, it really isn't too big of a deal.
That's right, this is no big deal
Just kidding. Boulder is pretty amazing. The first thing that greets you on arrival (at least if you fly) is that the sky seems so much bigger and the sun brighter. Perhaps it's because I'm most used to the gloomy grey sky that belongs to Chicago for much of the year or perhaps it's just my overactive imagination, but when I left the Denver Airport I thought I was going to go blind from how bright it was.
As usual, my plan had been to show up to Boulder and figure out things as they came, but thankfully my 4K teammate "cool mom" Caitlyn was kind enough to drive up from Colorado Springs to pick me up at the Denver airport and drive me to Boulder. I am also lucky to have 4K friends in Boulder, on whose air mattress I have been crashing for over a week now (thanks Bradley and Chelsea and co).
For those of you who followed my 4K trip last year on this blog, we actually went through Boulder on our way to Portland. It was definitely among our team's favorite stops, which is partly why I came out here. Of course visiting a town is different than living there, but I would say so far Boulder has lived up to the hype, and I can see why it is often called the happiest city in America. But of course there is no such thing as a perfect place (or a thing that I can't complain about), so here are my thoughts on Boulder after living here for a week, listed somewhat randomly.
Great commuting by biking- I don't think there is anywhere I have been in America that is as bike friendly as Boulder. I suppose this is easier to accomplish in a smaller city like Boulder, but still I'm amazed by just how many bike lanes and paths are spread throughout the entire city. A big plus is that bike paths are designed such that you don't have to constantly stop at every light, making commuting by bike much faster.
Proximity to the Rockies- I love the Appalachians and their general greenness, but in terms of embodying the essence of "mountain-ness", it's pretty hard to dispute that the Rockies reign supreme in North America. They are where I first saw snow in July, where I first suffered from altitude sickness.
6,843 feet above sea level and out of breath
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
It's usually insane and absurd until you do it
So... remember when I said back in December I would be posting once a week, especially about my Midwest Ride?
Damn, I suck at keeping online promises.
But instead of flagellating myself over it (which I suppose I should be doing), I want to write a post about some thoughts I had yesterday. I'll get back to the Midwest ride eventually... Awhile back, I wrote about how the 4K gives you a certain thirst for adventure that persists with you long after you reach the end of the 70 days and your destination.
Yesterday, my teammate Chelsea Johnson and I were talking on the phone about how we both feel the need to do something crazy and adventurous and amazing again. No need to get into specific details, but let's just say that the phrase, "4K on every continent" came up. Of course, as soon as that phrase was uttered, we expressed frustration at the fact that we both knew just how difficult it would be to pull off an adventure like that. The complexity of all the logistics - time, money, effort it would require - is incredible, and for a moment we both were resigned to accepting that no such adventure could ever be done.
But then I realized that before the first 4K ride in 2002, the idea of a bunch of young, inexperienced, college students riding their bicycles all the way from Baltimore to San Francisco must have seemed so utterly and completely insane. Before Ryan Hanley decided in 2001 that this would be how he would honor the memory of his father who had passed away from cancer, there must have been at least some people who told him not to go, that it was too dangerous, too difficult, too insane. Of course I'm sure he had his supporters, but others, who meant well, must have asked him, where will you sleep? How will you pay for everything? How will you navigate a 4,000 mile coast to coast trip? What will you do when your bicycle breaks down in the middle of nowhere? What will you do when you are too tired to continue and want to come home?
For that matter, when the founders of Adventure Cycling organized a cross-country ride by over 4,000 riders in 1976 to celebrate the American Bicentennial, people must really have told them that they were insane. But here we are in 2015, both Adventure Cycling and 4K for Cancer stronger than ever, because back in 1976 and back in 2002 someone said, hey this thing that some people are calling insane and impossible? Let's go do that thing. Yes, I really mean the insane and impossible one.
The obvious lesson that I'm beating over your head is that such endeavors, seemingly so difficult and complicated, seem so much less difficult and complicated and so much more possible after someone has the guts and will to embark upon them for the very first time. Of course this lesson doesn't apply just to bicycle riding, but also to so many other amazing human feats.
I find that it's so easy for me to know this lesson passively and never put it into practice. Maybe because it's a different way to say, "if you can dream it, you can achieve it," which has become such an obvious and meaningless cliche. But if I may put forth a cliche of my own, sometimes I find that the simplest and most obvious lessons, the ones that just intuitively make sense, are the lessons that we most often fail to heed. We are so entrenched in this lesson that we twist it into something seemingly similar but very different. We twist the lesson into, "if you can dream it, you WILL achieve it," as if the fact that you have dreamed of something is a guarantee that you will achieve it. We replace the word "can" with "will" and deny the fact that actualizing our dreams into achievements requires a lot of effort. We want to experience the high of knowing that our dreams aren't mere fantasy, but not experience the low of recognizing that transforming said dreams into reality requires us to put in work that is often hard and even unpleasant. I know I have spent so much of my life dreaming of amazing things I could do, becoming intoxicated by the possibility of accomplishing these things, only to fail to follow through on them. So maybe the lesson, in its original form, isn't a cliche but rather a good lesson whose reputation has been damaged because we fail to pay enough close attention to what it actually says.
In the end, I know it's probably not likely that Chelsea and my other teammates and I will end up doing a 4K like ride on every single continent, and that's okay by me. But the point I want to make is that I don't want us to not do it because we simply think that such an endeavor is too difficult or even impossible. Instead, I want us to end up not doing it because we decide there are better ways to spend our time or money or effort, that there are new and even more amazing adventures to pursue (possibly adventures aside from biking... but only possibly).
Instead of saying, no, it's too expensive, no it's too time consuming, I want us to say, hey let's embark on this other amazing feat that will also have our family and friends questioning our sanity. I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?
Damn, I suck at keeping online promises.
But instead of flagellating myself over it (which I suppose I should be doing), I want to write a post about some thoughts I had yesterday. I'll get back to the Midwest ride eventually... Awhile back, I wrote about how the 4K gives you a certain thirst for adventure that persists with you long after you reach the end of the 70 days and your destination.
Yesterday, my teammate Chelsea Johnson and I were talking on the phone about how we both feel the need to do something crazy and adventurous and amazing again. No need to get into specific details, but let's just say that the phrase, "4K on every continent" came up. Of course, as soon as that phrase was uttered, we expressed frustration at the fact that we both knew just how difficult it would be to pull off an adventure like that. The complexity of all the logistics - time, money, effort it would require - is incredible, and for a moment we both were resigned to accepting that no such adventure could ever be done.
But then I realized that before the first 4K ride in 2002, the idea of a bunch of young, inexperienced, college students riding their bicycles all the way from Baltimore to San Francisco must have seemed so utterly and completely insane. Before Ryan Hanley decided in 2001 that this would be how he would honor the memory of his father who had passed away from cancer, there must have been at least some people who told him not to go, that it was too dangerous, too difficult, too insane. Of course I'm sure he had his supporters, but others, who meant well, must have asked him, where will you sleep? How will you pay for everything? How will you navigate a 4,000 mile coast to coast trip? What will you do when your bicycle breaks down in the middle of nowhere? What will you do when you are too tired to continue and want to come home?
For that matter, when the founders of Adventure Cycling organized a cross-country ride by over 4,000 riders in 1976 to celebrate the American Bicentennial, people must really have told them that they were insane. But here we are in 2015, both Adventure Cycling and 4K for Cancer stronger than ever, because back in 1976 and back in 2002 someone said, hey this thing that some people are calling insane and impossible? Let's go do that thing. Yes, I really mean the insane and impossible one.
The obvious lesson that I'm beating over your head is that such endeavors, seemingly so difficult and complicated, seem so much less difficult and complicated and so much more possible after someone has the guts and will to embark upon them for the very first time. Of course this lesson doesn't apply just to bicycle riding, but also to so many other amazing human feats.
I find that it's so easy for me to know this lesson passively and never put it into practice. Maybe because it's a different way to say, "if you can dream it, you can achieve it," which has become such an obvious and meaningless cliche. But if I may put forth a cliche of my own, sometimes I find that the simplest and most obvious lessons, the ones that just intuitively make sense, are the lessons that we most often fail to heed. We are so entrenched in this lesson that we twist it into something seemingly similar but very different. We twist the lesson into, "if you can dream it, you WILL achieve it," as if the fact that you have dreamed of something is a guarantee that you will achieve it. We replace the word "can" with "will" and deny the fact that actualizing our dreams into achievements requires a lot of effort. We want to experience the high of knowing that our dreams aren't mere fantasy, but not experience the low of recognizing that transforming said dreams into reality requires us to put in work that is often hard and even unpleasant. I know I have spent so much of my life dreaming of amazing things I could do, becoming intoxicated by the possibility of accomplishing these things, only to fail to follow through on them. So maybe the lesson, in its original form, isn't a cliche but rather a good lesson whose reputation has been damaged because we fail to pay enough close attention to what it actually says.
In the end, I know it's probably not likely that Chelsea and my other teammates and I will end up doing a 4K like ride on every single continent, and that's okay by me. But the point I want to make is that I don't want us to not do it because we simply think that such an endeavor is too difficult or even impossible. Instead, I want us to end up not doing it because we decide there are better ways to spend our time or money or effort, that there are new and even more amazing adventures to pursue (possibly adventures aside from biking... but only possibly).
Instead of saying, no, it's too expensive, no it's too time consuming, I want us to say, hey let's embark on this other amazing feat that will also have our family and friends questioning our sanity. I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?
 |
| Finally I understand comparison line graphs |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)