Driving home after lunch, the cloudless afternoon sun shining though the driver’s side window began to irritate me. I roll down the window halfway. For the moment, I’m not angry but rather stressed, as if I was constantly running to catch a train that has just pulled into the station. It’s an unusually warm day for April and I’m in a full throttle, pedal to the metal mode, preparing for the Bethel Spring Race Series, which translates to always fighting and struggling to find time to go out and ride – not for joy, but rather to put in some hard training miles.
Weaving through traffic in town on this particular Saturday afternoon, my mood began to turn into anger when I realize that my weekend was already packed with other events – birthday party to attend, food shopping, cooking dinner. I wouldn’t have time to go out and ride. I tried to force myself to change my mood. Nothing worked. My body language and perhaps my forceful exhale of my breath, expressed my mood clearly to my family.
“Is everything okay?” my wife, Michelle, asks and I paused before answering, knowing that I would not be able to hide my true feelings.
“I’m fine!” I answer, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“Are you sure?” Michelle asks, and turns her body towards me.
“Yes!” I say, with the muscles in my jaw tightening.
“Man! Why don’t you go out for a ride, or something!!” Michelle commands, at which time, my son chimes in, “Yeah, Daddy, you’re being a real meanie.”
I looked through the rear view mirror to get a glimpse of my son. He looked at me with a convincing disgust and truth telling expression, only a six year old could muster.
Michelle leans over to the driver's seat and tells me that she would take both kids to the birthday party of my son’s classmate and would also do the food shopping. Suddenly, I felt like a five your old, who has been told to go outside to play, after being bottled inside the house all day. My mood lighted and a smile began to grow my face. Arriving at our house, Michelle switches to the driver’s side and drops me off on the sidewalk in front of our house. After giving each kid a kiss goodbye, I kiss Michelle.
“Thank you.” I say, with the muscles in my face, now relaxed.
“You owe me.” Michelle says with a smile.
I’m alone now. I headed into the house, rush upstairs, strip off all my clothes to put on my cycling short and shirt, savoring each second, I’ve been given. I fill up my water bottle – half Gatoraid, half water, put on my heart rate monitor and head to the basement to prep my bike. I pump the tires to 120 psi, a quick check of the chains, spin my front and rear wheels…check, check, good to go. Now, it’s socks, shoes, helmet, sunglasses and gloves and I’m out the garage door. I’m free and on the road.
Three hours pass on my usual training route and I’ve settled into the repetitiveness of constant peddling, as pain and fatigue begins to ooze into my lower back and legs. I began to think random thoughts, in order to numb the suffering my brain was telling me that I was experiencing. One random thought, linked to another.
Did I put on sun block before the ride today? Michelle hates it when I don’t put on sun block and I get burned… oh yeah, Michelle…What just happened today? Why was I so angry? I have a great life. I have a loving and supportive spouse, who understands my obsession with cycling and racing and we have two beautiful children. I have my own company and I love what I do. So why am I always feeling so stressed out and depressed? Let’s break this down… What is the single most important thing in my life right now? Cycling. What is the one thing that is causing all my stress and anxiety? Cycling…. Cycling?? Wait… I put cycling as the most important single most important thing in my life….and most stressful?? Cycling was more important than my family??? My order of importance is, cycling, family and career.?? Something is really wrong.
I began to slow my pace on my bike. My order of importance struck me hard like an ear piercing scream. Without a doubt, I need to put family first. I realized I was putting too much emphasis on my cycling and training schedule, perhaps on the verge of being obsessive. At that moment, I decided to take an easy approach with my cycling. Perhaps “fire” my cycling coach… I wanted to bring the “fun” back into cycling. As I continued to ride and realizing my new paradigm, I felt as if a huge weight lifted off of me and a surge of new found energy took over my body. I want to go home. I miss my kids. I miss my wife.
I pulled my bike into the garage and noticed that the house was unusually quiet. I walked upstairs, threw my sweat soaked shirt and shorts into a pile and showered. The spattering of water against the tub seemed curiously loud today. I felt lonely coming home to an empty house. For the next two hours, I sat on the sunny spot of the living room rug and read the newspaper, eagerly waiting for the arrival of my family. Family, career and then cycling….now I’ve got it.
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