For the last dozen years my sport of choice has been running. I never really have an off-season. By definition, as a runner, I run, rain or shine, winter, spring, summer and fall. Sometimes I run further, faster, or more determined, but I run, almost everyday. When I decide to do a race, I usually just do it, marathons are different and take a little more directed training, but I love to feel like I could run a half-marathon tomorrow if I decided to. Running gives me confidence in every other aspect of my life; there is no off-season in that. All that being said, I am wrestling with the reality that cyclocross season is coming to an end. I am not accustomed to the idea of seasons. I find it strange to have a season, a specific period of time in which you partake in a specific activity. And yet, it is comforting to know that I have the whole “off season” to train and look forward to next fall, letting my addiction feaster over the long cold winter, only to emerge even stronger in the spring.
The season of racing will soon be over, but the season for riding, the season for falling deeper in love with cycling, the season to nurture the addition that has over taken me the last few months is just beginning. I fell in love with running for a number of reasons; confidence, strength, endorphins, community, the feeling of accomplishment. These feeling are all present in my love affair with my bike, but over shadowing them all is that riding bikes is just plain fun.