Bail

Did something I never like to do this morning.

Roll out of bed at 6:30. Check.

Grab bikes and clothes. Check.

Get directions to the race. Check.

Out the door for 7:00. Check.

I fired up the car and headed out for a cup of coffee and some bagels. 6:30 is way to early for me to even think about cooking.

I looked at the clouds. I looked at the thermometer. 52 degrees. I've raced in colder, but it felt rough this morning.

Just as I approached Einstein's bagels--the chosen stop for the morning--my phone rang.

Fast Freddy.

"What's up Freddy?"

"Bondo! You on your way yet?"

"Yup. Not feeling it, but I'm heading north."

"I'm bailing, Bond. It's raining and 40 degrees in Baraboo."

Fuck.

For the past 24 hours I've been fighting a pretty good mental battle to just get myself to the line for this race. It's funny: right after the crash two weeks ago, all I cared about was replacing my wheel and how long it would take for my hand to be well enough to get back at it.

Yesterday, all I could think about was hitting a pile up of riders at full tilt, going over the bars, landing square on my head or cervical spine, and living out the rest of my days in a wheelchair (if at all).

I worked on my bikes all yesterday evening, making the final race preps, making sure everything was ready to go. I still haven't spent much time on either of them in present condition. The soma had to be somewhat reconstructed after collegiate regionals. And the Tarmac is just untested.

Did I want to race on new equipment? Not really. But I didn't have a lot of time to break it in.

I got myself in the car and I headed north. And now, here was Freddy on the phone saying he was bailing.

"Fuck it man. I'm out too."

"I don't want to discourage you, Bond. Just wanted to let you know I won't be there."

"Nah...no worries man. I've got the fear anyway. Bailing has been on my mind since Thursday."

I passed Einsteins and drove a little further hoping my mind would change. But it wouldn't. As I saw the rain drops hitting the windshield, I knew that I didn't have it today. Mentally, I wasn't there. I did not want to stand on the line shivering. I did not want to ride in a pack on steep descents in the rain. I didn't want any of it today.

I want to learn to stop thinking of each race as the be all, end all, I have to be there or I've failed. I need to learn to listen to myself and my gut. Cycling is a lifetime endeavor and should you so choose, you can race until you're old and gray. I need to learn to keep this in mind. Sometimes it's better to sacrifice the day to further the long term goal.

It's just that it's hard to know when your gut is right and when it's just wanting you to take the easy way.

Regardless, not racing had already crept into my mind. There, it's roots spread quickly and took hold. It's branches grew until I could think of nothing else...and no amount of will could reverse the thought process. I turned around and headed for home. I still stopped at Einsteins--though one closer to my house--because I wanted coffee.

And I bumped into Ken Walz (A chemistry professor at a local college) and had a conversation about teaching and the potential for my future employment as an educator--a direction that I've been trying to steer things in for some time. Things look okay for the fall and changes are afoot for me.

Rain clouds. Silver linings.