Oh my goodness. What was I thinking? That’s the question I kept asking myself during the last leg of my bicycle ride late this morning. Never mind that it’s 85 degrees outside with 65% humidity. So, WHAT was I thinking? I was thinking that this weekend I am committed to a 5k event and that in the last 1 1/2 weeks I have done squat with my intended training regime. Looking back on those 10 days that will be forever lost to me, I can rationalize all I want but one thing remains, the event is coming and prepared or not, I am participating. Thus, I pushed logic to the side, donned my helmet, strapped my water bottle around my waist and off I went headed north on my country road, a gentle breeze guiding me alongside the road.

My goal this hot, sunny morning ride was to cover more than 5 miles in order to surpass my last recorded ride from last month. In order to accomplish this I visually knew how far I’d have to pedal to satisfy my overall workout. The first mile wasn’t too bad. In fact, I felt a bit giddy as I chuckled to myself thinking ‘this isn’t too bad’. Ha! There’s even a verse in the Old Testament that popped into my head to taunt my ego: ….pride goeth before the fall….By the end of the first mile I was fervently looking and anxiously anticipating finding a shade tree so that I could stop and enjoy some cold water from my water bottle. Doing so gave me something new to ponder. What’s worse? Tiring from the heat and thirst or swatting mosquitoes while being bathed in the cool shade of a towering tree? I began to imagine worse scenarios of survival so that I could tolerate and justify my temporary discomfort.

I was able to make it to a new destination before turning back for the journey home. Using the gears on my bike, I made adjustments to help with my return home. Whenever possible I chose to coast and save my energy. As I worked my way along I discovered that our road doesn’t have as many shade trees as I wanted or hoped, yet found while riding in a stretch of road where the trees on both sides form a canopy was pure heaven to a warm and thirsty soul. The benefits of the shade and smoother gravel surface allowed me to regain some energy and feel more optimistic about making it home.

During one of my water breaks I let my mind wander imagining if I just plain gave up the effort to complete my ride. I allowed myself to ask ‘who would I call to come get me?’ Logic told me it’d have to be someone with a truck or large car to carry my bike. I admit that for a moment (or two) I was entertaining defeat. I even wondered if I’d be better off walking home and guide the bike next to me. I thought about friends who have biked across our state and endured worse conditions and fatigue compared to this short route.

Thankfully, I chose (during my last rest stop) to put mind over matter and push through my thoughts of discouragement, the muscle burn from pedaling a few inclines, and the sun beating down on my face. I began to ‘coach’ myself. With each turn of the bike’s pedals I exhorted myself with “you can do this”, “you’re almost home”, “just a short way to go”. Climbing the last slight incline in the road was almost more than I could take as the speed of my bike slowed to a crawl, but I was determined. For a fleeting moment I remembered and laughed to myself about the time in 8th grade when I gave an oral report having never finished the book and making up the end as I spoke. Unfortunately, my teacher saw through my deceit and laziness and told me to ‘go home, finish the book, and you can give your report tomorrow’. I didn’t want my bike ride to finish this way, being lazy or giving up because the task was more difficult than I originally imagined as I tied my shoe laces in preparation for a morning of exercise.

My self-coaching worked. I inched back home on my beloved road. I coaxed myself along reminding my tired, hot body that today’s effort was not a race, but an exercise of endurance and perseverance. I visualized myself finishing the route, collapsing on the couch as the comfort of our air conditioned home washed over my sweaty arms and legs. 

My heart rate is back to normal. I’ve enjoyed a healthy lunch and the hour of discomfort from a hot, humid bike ride is behind me as I continue to wind through the day. Feelings of defeat have been replaced with a sense of accomplishment sprinkled with a new layer of wisdom–give serious consideration to using the earlier, cooler hours of the morning to pursue my goals. Would doing so matter?  Sensibility tells me as such–at least I could entertain the possibility of  not having to ask myself the haunting question–“What was I thinking!?”