It's for fun

That's what I keep telling myself about cycling in the park to train for the Montauk Century. But it has been cold, day after day, and there has been an avalanche of seasonal family chores and obligations, and then there is the matter of...pants.

As I found out on my first training jaunt in Prospect Park, sometimes there is a reason for Lycra. I found myself using my lack of Expensive Bicycling Attire as a reason to avoid riding in the cold. No insulated padded tights, Gore-Tex windbreaker, and prescription wraparound sunglasses? No can do! Then I would see some tough little Mexican dude zooming around on a rusty bike on a freezing night in a pair of cheap blue jeans, balancing a pizza on the handlebars, and feel like an idiot.

Finally, last week, I broke down and ordered some bike pants and shorts (with padding--yes, padded butt pants) from an online discounter. For a few glorious days, I had another perfect excuse: The pants had not arrived yet.










Well, this morning the pants arrived...and now I am paralyzed with fear about taking them out of the box. I've blown this morning (my only shot at the park all day) worrying about the contents of that box. I just have to convince myself that the effect will be more akin to, well, this.

"Chancho. When you are a man, sometimes you wear stretchy pants in your room. It's for fun."
                                           —"Nacho Libre"

 

Comments

[Elizabeth]

Oh, I can relate! I decided to start running this winter, and bought these ridiculously expensive running shoes, and then realized I didn't have the right clothes, so the shoes sat forlornly in the closet for a month. Somehow I didn't want to spend another penny after shelling out for the shoes. Finally, I scored some running clothes for cheap on ebay, and now every Monday, Thursday, and Saturday morning I haul my butt around the park. It has been so cold and windy and it is the LAST thing I ever want to do, but still I'm doing it. The first few times, with every footfall I'd think one of the following: "I hate this. I want to stop. This sucks. I'd rather be having a root canal." It was like a meditation of suffering and hate! I forced myself to start doing positive affirmations and it actually helps.

So next time you're out, if you whiz by a woman chanting, "I am powerful, capable, and strong, I am safe and secure in my world, all the resources that I need are on their way to me right now," shout hello!

[Brenda from Flatbush]

LOL!! I love your affirmations! So far, all of mine have been profane death threats against the East Drive hill!