Bonk.

Imagine yourself biking along, not a care in the world and as you turn your head to look at the pretty bird, you face forward again and BONK.  You walk into a concrete wall that stretches as high as the sky and looks to be as think as it is long.  And there you sit, on your little bike at the very bottom of something that just seems too big that day.  You take a deep break and long gulp and stare at the wall.  There is no way around it or under it - you simply have to go up it.  That is what it feels like to bonk on your bike.

Ask any cyclist or runner and they will remember each time they have bonked and experienced the feeling of "how I am going to finish this."  It is human nature to remember the bad rides and not always remember the successful ones.  The ones where we felt as if we were riding in peanut butter stings our brains for years to come.  But the ones where we hit a new top speed or climb a great climb, tend to slip from our mind more quickly.  Much like how in everyday life we tend to remember the negative and lose track of the positive.

Well, last night I went on a ride with Eric out in the Mines of Spain and down to Massey.  I had been having a really bad couple of days, and needed a ride to take my anger out on and this one I thought would do the trick.  Eric gave me the usual overview: how many climbs and miles, where to turn and what to watch out for and mentioned that there was one "wall."

We got on our way and I felt pretty strong.  We climbed up to the Julien Dubuque monument and I felt good, and I could feel my bad mood starting to slip away.  Then as we made our way out of the Mines of Spain, Eric double checked that I wanted to continue to Massey.  I said I would be good so we made the turn and headed that way.  And I did do good, until I found the wall he was talking about.  It was a long hill with a steep grade to the top.  I knew I have climbed hills like this before, but today it was just not going to happen, and I knew it the moment I started to turn my heels.

I tried to settle in, get a good pace and keep my heart rate down, but my mind was not having it and gave up.  I pulled over to the side to catch my breathe as Eric moved farther and farther up the hill.  I got back on my bike and tried to start again but got a short gain of a handful of feet.  I pulled once more to the side.  My mind was not ready to get up this hill.  It was just too big for me that day.  So once more I got back on my bike only to lose my balance and fall over and roll down into the ditch.  As I laid there next to the discarded Twix wrapper, I knew I had done it.  I had bonked.

I finally got my butt and bruised ego back up and looked myself over.  I slightly torn up shin, but nothing too major besides some scratches on my back.  I didn't know if I wanted to kick something or just give in and sit on the side of the road and cry.  So I did the only thing that I knew would get me up that hill - I swallowed my pride, pulled my bike up and I walked up the rest of the hill.

By the time I got to the top, Eric was waiting for me in a driveway with a look of concern.  He asked if I was ok, and I shook my head yes.  He looked at my leg and my bike, and asked what happened.  I told him of my tumble from grace and he told me he was slightly disappointed he wasn't there to see me do it - I started to laugh.  We both noticed that my chain had fallen off and as I started to fix it, it finally hit me.  That even though the hill had won this round, at least I could laugh about it.

We finished out the ride and even though I didn't find myself walking anymore of the hills, it was probably the worse riding I had done.  But by the end I started to feel better and smile more.  As we put all of our stuff back in Eric's truck, I noticed the moon rising by one of the bluffs.  And the idea that as another day ends, so begins a new one.  The idea that in biking you are going to have some bad rides, rides that will challenge you and push you to your limit and push you to bonk.  But it is how you handle those rides and what you learned from them to make you better for the next time you find yourself out there just wanting to quit.  They teach you to dust yourself off, find your breath and, no matter what, to make it to the top.

As we drove down the road, I knew I had lost my balance that day.  My balance on my bike, at work and in my personal life, and I knew I needed to find it again.  Even if it meant I would have to walk back to the top.

"Life is like riding a bicycle, in order to keep your balance you have to keep moving."       

   A blue moon rising over a bluff by the Mines of Spain