THE DARK HEART OF WINTER

Surviving the off-season

By EAT MORE LARD

September 26^th, 2016

PROPER WET

“And once the storm is over, you won‘t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won‘t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won‘t be the same person who walked in. That‘s what this storm‘s all about.”. Haruki Murakami.

It’s been a tough off-season season through the dark depths of a Macedon Ranges winter. It has, of course, been cold but also really wet. I mean proper wet where it hasn’t stopped raining for a week and I have had to sandbag the shed to keep the worst of the water out. At one point, I counted that I had been wet on 18 out of 28 rides over a 7 week period. Picking this year to do a major renovation (roof off, walls gone) was asking for trouble. I’ll quantify an Australia winter right now by saying I grew up in the UK so I should be used to far worse. Sadly, or not, I have acclimatised after 15 years and my older skin is not as elastic or waterproof as it once was. Here, I still see snow on occasion and there is sometimes black ice to deal with.

CANKLES

They say form is temporary. Well it deserted me this winter and my confidence and belief dribbled away with the last of the summer light. In late March, five of us completed the Audax Oppy 24 TTT, taking out the distance award for Victoria. No mean feat and it had felt good. However 5 days later, my ankle was giving me trouble and in the end I was restricted to short rides for almost 5 weeks. This was probably the first injury of significance I had had for 10 years and I felt pretty frustrated by it, especially as I had had no signs of impeding trouble on that 500km plus ride. I also had another major ride coming up in early June, a 600km qualifier for the upcoming Great Southern Randonnee later this year (it’s complicated, I know). Reading back on my report on that ride now, and it all sounded quite jolly. The truth was that I was anxious about that ride after an enforced slow period and when it was wet for the first 3 hours, I had contemplated turning around and heading for home. I didn’t and the ankle held up during the ride but I felt like I was doing it because I had to more than because I wanted to.

By the end of that ride, though, my knee was sore. To be honest, I didn’t really read much into it. A sore knee for the last few hours after 30 plus hours and 600km is not really that surprising. When it started to feel better after a few days, I thought even less of it. However, the very next ride, the pain was back after only an hour on the bike. Much like the ankle this was a new and unpleasant sensation for me so back to the physio I went for another 4 weeks or so of restricted riding. All up, I lost 9 weeks and most of my motivation was washed away with the rain.

RESURRECTION IS IN THE MAIL

It feels like a first world luxury to whinge about such things but the combination of limited bike time, terrible weather, stress from growing a small business whilst trying to deal with a house rebuild was taking its toll and I was sinking more than I was swimming. I found myself getting frustrated and annoyed at little things that didn’t matter. I saw people heading off to Europe and became ludicrously jealous that they were having fun and escaping this suffocating weather. Normally I’d be excited for them and live vicariously through their adventures but I preferred to tune it out. I preferred to close myself off although really I just wanted to be away somewhere, anywhere. Anywhere but here.

But you have to remind yourself that in order to appreciate the light, first you must appreciate the dark. I felt myself coming out of my funk after a few of the glorious sunny winter days, after my youngest daughter finally clicked into how to ride a bike (and the freedom that will mean this summer for us as a family!). I was starting to enjoy those snippets of sun. I had a new toy and was discovering some new non-roads. There was still the odd twinge in the body but it felt more like my paranoia than an ongoing problem.

I was beginning to peel back the curtains (if only we had curtains), see the rain failing from the sky, pull on the jacket and roll out with a wry smile on my face. This felt good - the cold, the stinging rain. The coffee tasted so much better.

SWOOP! HERE COMES SPRING

The days are longer but the wet is definitely still here. With Spring comes our black and white ferocious friend in the trees, the magpie. They take such delight in us cyclists. I wonder what they used to do a few hundred years ago before the bicycle. It’s like the heart of winter; you can’t fight the magpies. They will swoop. You can hide but you can’t run - magpies can fly faster that you can run. You have to embrace the magpie, let them have their fun. Soon, they will go back to doing what ever it is that magpies do when they aren’t swooping cyclists.

And so it is with winter. She will beat you down to your essence, strip you of your pretence and remind who you are and more importantly who you are not. Once you’ve taken her lesson, you are ready to bloom and grow like the world around as Spring weaves its magic. Embrace it. Enjoy the feeling, the flow of energy, that first ride in shorts and a short sleeve jersey where you feel that you could just keep on riding into the sunset, over that hill and never stop. Or at least as far as the next pub.

I like these photos. They reminds me that there were lots of good days this winter. Lots of just doing was achieved, fun was shared with friends and family and a few hops based sports drinks helped lubricate the conversation.