When I was a Senior in High School, nearing the end of the Alternative and Grunge era in music, a little band named Lit had the hit song "My Own Worst Enemy". It's a catchy tune. In fact, I'm humming it in my head now. Furthermore during the Rock Band craze I do believe it was an option. I recall this because Rock Band had the edited song version, which was impossible to follow with the edited lyrics when I knew the real lyrics. I digress.
Now in reality in some way, shape, or form we all are our own worst enemies. The band, to my knowledge (and I am FULL of useless knowledge), never really had any other hit songs, but according to their Wiki Page they are going strong. I feel like they, much like many other bands from that era, just won't give it up; which still gives fans like myself and a dear friend of mine, hope. Hope for what you might ask, I don't know. Just hope involving rat tails if nothing else.
I've made mention before that this journey I'm on, I never expected to be on, and most of the time I just make it up as I go along. That doesn't mean that I don't follow a workout schedule; I do, and sometimes I even add to it. This also doesn't mean that even when I have the best of intentions that something doesn't come up, or someone doesn't get in the way. Most recently I got in my own way. I got in my own way, got in my own head, and got so upset I cried. And I cried a lot.
Will got a road bike which meant we could now bike outside together. Admittedly so I needed to do this, no matter how many spin classes I go to or how many hours I spend alone in the cycle studio that bike doesn't exactly move on the road. I am borrowing a road bike from my best friend and aside from a trainer session with her and a few around the blocks on my own, the bike has sat more than anything.
In any case, Will and I were equipped with two road bike and one set of pedals. Little did I know this was the beginning of the end of me taking up prime real estate in my own head. Kristine gave us some pedals for Will's bike, but they didn't work with Will's cleats which couldn't be changed out. However my cleats could be changed out and I could use these new to us pedals. Truth be told I was having a hard time clipping and unclipping, so it seemed as if the planets were aligning. Will and I had a Friday night date night that included changing pedals and cleats and rewrapping my handlebars. We live life on the super romantic edge.
The next morning we went out to bike and I was SO EXCITED! I never really thought that I'd be riding in a large pickup truck, listening to country music, with two road bikes racked in the back. The country music came into my life when Will came in, and it turns out, I don't mind a lot of it. But, we were off!
We got to where I had said we should start and unracked the bikes. Will hoped on his immediately. I hopped on mine, but I couldn't clip in. I could clip in but not both feet. I couldn't move. I almost fell over. I freaked out. In fact I started a stuttering rant that I couldn't do this, I couldn't be a triathlete, I didn't want to bike. Will offered to hold my bike while I clipped and unclipped, but I declined knowing darn well that if I went down he was going with me. I kept on my hysterical tangent while Will biked in literal circles around me. We were losing precious time together and good riding time. It was now or never. I had to do it. And when Will threatened to put mountain bike pedals on my road bike, that was just the motivation I needed to hear, and I did it. We were heading out on bikes.
I suggested we bike near my work area because the roads are quiet and it's primarily an industrial area, so on a Saturday there wasn't going to be much traffic. The problem with this logic is that I actually am not all that familiar with the area so we ended up in a dead end very large parking lot with a lot of docks for trucks. We began with a few laps around to 'warm up'. It was early on and extremely evident that I wasn't able to keep up with Will and this was primarily because I wasn't changing gears; I wasn't comfortable with it. I asked for us to stop. We sat in the grass for a break and I noticed something. I looked like a cyclist. I had biked there. And I convinced myself that I couldn't do it. I couldn't try to do a triathlon, let alone call myself a triathlete. All I could do was cry.
Now in reality in some way, shape, or form we all are our own worst enemies. The band, to my knowledge (and I am FULL of useless knowledge), never really had any other hit songs, but according to their Wiki Page they are going strong. I feel like they, much like many other bands from that era, just won't give it up; which still gives fans like myself and a dear friend of mine, hope. Hope for what you might ask, I don't know. Just hope involving rat tails if nothing else.
I've made mention before that this journey I'm on, I never expected to be on, and most of the time I just make it up as I go along. That doesn't mean that I don't follow a workout schedule; I do, and sometimes I even add to it. This also doesn't mean that even when I have the best of intentions that something doesn't come up, or someone doesn't get in the way. Most recently I got in my own way. I got in my own way, got in my own head, and got so upset I cried. And I cried a lot.
Will got a road bike which meant we could now bike outside together. Admittedly so I needed to do this, no matter how many spin classes I go to or how many hours I spend alone in the cycle studio that bike doesn't exactly move on the road. I am borrowing a road bike from my best friend and aside from a trainer session with her and a few around the blocks on my own, the bike has sat more than anything.
In any case, Will and I were equipped with two road bike and one set of pedals. Little did I know this was the beginning of the end of me taking up prime real estate in my own head. Kristine gave us some pedals for Will's bike, but they didn't work with Will's cleats which couldn't be changed out. However my cleats could be changed out and I could use these new to us pedals. Truth be told I was having a hard time clipping and unclipping, so it seemed as if the planets were aligning. Will and I had a Friday night date night that included changing pedals and cleats and rewrapping my handlebars. We live life on the super romantic edge.
The next morning we went out to bike and I was SO EXCITED! I never really thought that I'd be riding in a large pickup truck, listening to country music, with two road bikes racked in the back. The country music came into my life when Will came in, and it turns out, I don't mind a lot of it. But, we were off!
We got to where I had said we should start and unracked the bikes. Will hoped on his immediately. I hopped on mine, but I couldn't clip in. I could clip in but not both feet. I couldn't move. I almost fell over. I freaked out. In fact I started a stuttering rant that I couldn't do this, I couldn't be a triathlete, I didn't want to bike. Will offered to hold my bike while I clipped and unclipped, but I declined knowing darn well that if I went down he was going with me. I kept on my hysterical tangent while Will biked in literal circles around me. We were losing precious time together and good riding time. It was now or never. I had to do it. And when Will threatened to put mountain bike pedals on my road bike, that was just the motivation I needed to hear, and I did it. We were heading out on bikes.
I suggested we bike near my work area because the roads are quiet and it's primarily an industrial area, so on a Saturday there wasn't going to be much traffic. The problem with this logic is that I actually am not all that familiar with the area so we ended up in a dead end very large parking lot with a lot of docks for trucks. We began with a few laps around to 'warm up'. It was early on and extremely evident that I wasn't able to keep up with Will and this was primarily because I wasn't changing gears; I wasn't comfortable with it. I asked for us to stop. We sat in the grass for a break and I noticed something. I looked like a cyclist. I had biked there. And I convinced myself that I couldn't do it. I couldn't try to do a triathlon, let alone call myself a triathlete. All I could do was cry.
Will asked what was wrong. In true fashion and form, I said nothing. He cared, he wanted to help, but I was embarrassed. I was registered and looking forward to a triathlon three weeks and one day from my melt down, and he had just gotten a bike and it was second nature to him. I sat in the grass crying and hiding behind my sunglasses. I quickly changed the subject and asked to take a photo of us on bike break.
We began shifting 101. Much like when I bought a manual transmission car and my dad had to take me to parking lots to teach me how to shift and drive it, Will had me in a parking lot practicing changing gears and understanding them in correlation to spin class that I was used to. I remarked to him that he's been to too many spin classes because the commands he was yelling at were exactly like spin class. It was frightening ... but in a good way.
Somehow, 8 miles later I felt confident and we headed back to rack the bikes in the truck so Will could go get ready for work. There was one last tiny hill to the truck and it didn't hit me to downshift to get up it easier, but I still made it up. Once we had the bikes racked in the car Will wanted to take an after photo of us having completed our first training ride ... together.
I finished that day feeling confident, like I could do it, and why couldn't I? The only thing that stands between me and finishing things is, well ... me. And while that may sound simple, it turns out I'm a whole lot greater of an influence on myself than I give myself credit for. Ironically this all brought me back to another pretty much one-hit wonder from the Alternative/Grunge era. And when The Flys sang "Got You Where I Want You" back in 1998, I never thought I'd equate it to reminding myself that it's me who holds me back and only me, and if I put myself mentally in a good place, that nearly out weighs all of the physical training, and I'll have myself exactly where I want myself to be.
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