Focusing

I was doing intervals the other day when I noticed something. I noticed that when I was deep in the suffering, I was completely and utterly focused. The only thing I was able to concentrate on was the ache in my legs. I was on the trainer so music was on, but I could only seem to hear my breathing. As the ache in my legs grew and the pain crept in so to did my focus. The more I suffered, the more I was able to focus in on the ache and concentrate on keeping my legs turning over. Bit by bit, the time slipped away unnoticed and before long the digital chime of my watch had interrupted my concentration to announce that time was up. I couldn't really remember the previous minutes, time had passed, but I was unsure of what had been going on around me, just the focus and concentration of what needed to be done. It was a mental game I had played with myself. I shut down the voice that said, this hurts and instead focused in on the pain and tried to know it, understand it. I realize I was on the trainer and was able to simply put my head down and push...I didn't have to worry about the road, other cyclists, cars, gravel, potholes. Certainly, this helped the focus, but I know it's there when I race, and when I train hard. The focus, the mental games are present in other things I do and enjoy...kayaking, definitely climbing, running. I have always enjoyed the times when I can focus so completely on the task in front of me that everything else seems a blur. Cycling reminds me of this almost daily.

Cycling is very much a mental game. This is one of the many things I find so enthralling about this beautiful sport. There are a lot of factors that go into being a successful racer, but I think that the mental games we play with ourselves, the voice inside our head that can tell us enough or tell us keep pushing is the most important tool we have. This is true for racing, but it's equally important when training. In fact, I would venture to say it's more important when training. Training isn't very glamorous, it doesn't have the excitement of a race, it's the day to day work of turning the pedals over, the 9 to 5, the foundation that is laid and unseen. On each ride when the voice comes creeping in, when the legs begin to ache it's the conversation we have with that voice that seems to matter the most.

'So what' says the blinking cursor. Well, it's these moments, the focus and the inner monologue that make cycling so important to me. I am able to let worries, stress, doubt, and daily life fall by the wayside, if only for the moment and let the focus take over. I have to.