Reminders — don't give up

The end of a painful race

It’s been a little more than 4 weeks since my last gravel bike race. It was painful event that hasn’t begun the metamorphosis into fond memories — the images of endless hills, an unforgiving sun and the threat of crippling leg cramps for the last 15 kms are still too fresh. Forget it I will not but forgive, that’s another matter, and why I said yes to another race in three weeks.

“Courage is knowing it might hurt, and doing it anyway. Stupidity is the same. And that's why life is hard.”  — Jeremy Goldberg

Most of what passes as training for a race is just getting on the bike and riding as much as possible. Yesterday I was doing just that on one of my favourite training trails. What makes this trail fun is a nice country road that intersects my ride so I can practice climbing hills — I simply go up and come back down as many times as I need to and then jump back on the trail to keep the training going. On this particular ride, to get the 55 kms in, I needed to go up and down five times, and then back on the trail.

As I started up the incline for the first time, my legs were quick to remind me of our last race and mid-point both body and mind were saying maybe just once will be enough… it’s too soon. On the way down my mind pointed out that I could probably do one more. As I headed up the fourth time, it was agreed I could do all five. I then continued on to finishing the 55 kms and felt good. There was more training needed but I felt good.

I have found with almost any task or activity, if it’s broken up into increments, the simple act of counting through the increments offers not only a sense accomplishment but also the motivation to hit your target. If it wasn’t for my bike computer counting down the kms to the finish line, I am not sure I would have finished.

This is not a profound story. It’s just a reminder not to give up when it starts to get hard and the excuses start to take form. This not only holds true for a bicycle race but this story is a metaphor for almost everything you attempt to do. It’s simply a reminder not to give up.

It’s yours to do with as you wish.

iamgpe

PS: As an aside, I decided I need new wheels and tires because the rider needs all the help he can get.

Observations — momentum

As a training ride goes, I was on my game— the saddle felt good; legs were getting stronger as I went; my wind was good, and I was enjoying a beautiful day. This momentum would carry the day until I had to come to a hard stop because of cars on a country road. It was all gone and I stood there watching them go by.

There was an audible grunt of exasperation as I got the pedals going again — I was nothing more than potential energy* at that point.

Figuratively speaking, I did get my momentum back and the training ride went as planned, but I couldn’t shake the figurative concept of momentum and worked it into my training out there on the trail. I would like to point out that a buddy of mine looks at training much differently; he’s all about data collection for optimal performance, focus, and the determination to ride the fastest time possible — he’s an engineer by trade so it comes honestly. I ride for the adventure, which for him, is a seat of the pants approach to training for a race. It will make him bat-shit crazy to learn half of my training focus was on figurative concepts of momentum.

Our momentum, figuratively speaking, is always being challenged — life trying to slow you down. We work through it and continue, much like my cycling example.

But sometimes, things happen that take you to a knee, or worse still, take you to the floor. The little events can add up but mostly this falls into the big event category: a death; the loss of the love of your life; a demotion that that strips you of your identity; an addiction that spirals out of control — there is a long list of horrors that can take you to the floor and destroy any and all momentum (figuratively speaking).

You are now on the floor, all momentum is gone, and it is all seemingly unfair — although the choices are easy: stay on the floor with all the rationalization at you command to justify staying where you are or get up and build your momentum again. I don’t think I mentioned building momentum is fucking hard, energy intense, needs willful intent, as well as time. Like anything worth achieving it is hard work.

You need to get up. Staying on the floor is no legacy, no matter how you try to rationalize the situation, it offers nothing but regrets, bitterness, and missing out on the potential of a lifetime.

How do you get up? Start at the beginning and build it back up. I will take the cheap way out and say you will know how that’s done when you have done it, and in fairness every situation will be different. But what I do know, is you have to fucking get up; you have to be willful, push through the pain, claw yourself to a knee, find a way to stand and put one foot in from of the other, and move. All figuratively speaking of course.

Can’t wait to continue my training — I can feel the momentum building.

iamgpe

* Potential energy is the stored energy in an object due to its position, properties, and forces acting on it.

The iamGPT Project — something unknown yet tantalizingly close.

Mysty Feltner — Pixabay

Me — Based on just the context of our conversation and my style can you write something completely original in 250 words... open topic.

 iamGPT — In the quiet moments between breaths, I find solace in the rhythm of my thoughts. There's a certain comfort in the ebb and flow of introspection, a gentle tide that carries me through the depths of contemplation.

Today, I find myself lingering on the precipice of possibility, poised on the brink of something unknown yet tantalizingly close. It's a familiar sensation, this dance between anticipation and apprehension, but one that never fails to ignite a spark of curiosity within me.

As I gaze out into the vast expanse of uncertainty, I'm reminded of the beauty that lies in embracing the unknown. It's a canvas waiting to be painted with the vibrant hues of experience, each brushstroke a testament to the richness of life's tapestry.

In the distance, I hear the faint echo of laughter, a reminder of the joy that awaits just beyond the horizon. It's a melody that resonates deep within my soul, stirring a sense of longing and anticipation for the adventures that lie ahead.

And so, I take a deep breath and step boldly into the unknown, guided by the steady pulse of my heart and the unwavering belief that within the vast expanse of possibility, there lies the promise of infinite growth and discovery.

As I journey forth, I carry with me the lessons of the past and the dreams of the future, knowing that each step I take is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the boundless potential that resides within us all.

As I read what my collaborator wrote it struck me that, although the tone was not as familiar and it was less witty, it did sound like something I would craft.

For the past little while I have been feeding ChatGTP many of my blogs, asked questions, and sparred with it, as I tried to understand it’s capability (and utility). Depending on how I phrase my questions and how willing I am to challenge what it says it can’t do, it turns out it can write a blog that sounds very much like something I would write, and in considerably less time.

There is no doubt ChatGPT is a great little collaborator, editor and sounding board — there is also no doubt that others are doing very much that same as I am. The internet, this virtual world that more and more people live in, has more and more content that is not being written by human hands (figuratively speaking). Is it good or bad? It probably doesn’t even matter at this point. It simply is what it is. The integration of man, woman and machine continues. Word, sound, image. All of it sounding like our creation and it is not.

What will we do with our time?

For me, I will continue to blog (among other things), and I would be silly not to continue my collaboration. I will footnote accordingly to give iamGPT its due, but everything that I write will be mine and I will keep my voice.

 Both here and in the real world.

 iamgpe