Decades on the bike have taught me a great deal about performance, persistence, preparation and the art of moving forward.
Some lessons come from the races themselves. Others emerge from the miles, through experience, reflection and observation
In this series, I share a few of the lessons the road has taught me, and what they might mean for life on two wheels and life on two feet.
Struggle is universal. We struggle when we become uncomfortable.
Sometimes we’re approaching a new performance edge, whether that’s on the bike, at work, at home, in our relationships or while learning a new skill. At other times, we’re approaching an edge we need to turn away from because our physical or emotional reserves simply can’t cope.
Over the years, I’ve learned to appreciate a particular kind of struggle. It’s the struggle that comes when we’re reaching for more.
Every race brings it. In fact, I’ve learned to look for it.
It’s where the edge of the performance I’ve trained for, the one I’ve seen in my mind’s eye, lives.
Oh, it’s turbulent in there. The race can throw me around and buffet me. It’s unnerving and uncomfortable. But if I can stay with it, I know I’ll discover that edge: the one I must learn to balance on for this race.
And it’s OK if I lose my balance.
I’ll get up, move in the direction of the turbulence, find that edge and go again. And again. And again.
Surprisingly, when I finally find my balance, a certain calm descends. I’ve accepted how uncomfortable I am, but now I’m confident I can stay with it for the duration of the race.
I’m free from the struggle, but not the effort.
I’m free to reach further.
This is how great endurance performances are created. And I’m talking about both cycling and life, because life, after all, is the longest endurance journey of all.
Can there be a great performance without struggle? I don’t think so. Struggle is an integral part of the process. It’s the doorway to acceptance. Some might call it flow.
I’m no great reader, but when I came across these lines from the poet Mary Oliver, the racer in me recognised a truth:
“When you hear, a mile away and still out of sight, the churn of the water as it begins to swirl and roil, fretting around the sharp rocks – when you hear that unmistakable pounding – when you feel the mist on your mouth and sense ahead the embattlement, the long falls plunging and steaming – then row, row for your life toward it.”
Perhaps it’s time we reframed struggle.
The next time you find yourself struggling, take a good look around. Where’s your edge? Can you find your balance on it?
What throws you off? Can you return, make an adjustment and try again? Can you hold your balance for a little longer? What are you learning?
This is how we move ourselves forward. This is how we reach for more.
So let’s not be afraid to enter the turbulence in search of our next performance edge, however big or small. And let’s have the courage to stay with the struggle long enough to discover what we’re capable of.
Because sometimes, the other side of struggle isn’t the end of the effort.
It’s the freedom to go further.
The road has taught Joe a great deal about finding balance in the struggle.
It’s experience he brings to his coaching, helping others find their own way through the challenges that come with reaching for more.
Decades on the bike have taught me a great deal about performance, persistence, preparation…
Decades on the bike have taught me a great deal about performance, persistence, preparation…
Decades on the bike have taught me a great deal about performance, persistence, preparation…