As time went on my attitude towards training gradually changed. The process is so insidious that I never really noticed. What was once new and exciting became routine. Another swim in the pool. Another run up Diamond Head. Who could imagine that swimming, biking, and running in such a beautiful place would feel routine?
I never stopped training. Sure I had to back off every now and then, like I did last week when I had a wart removed from my big toe. I guess for me training became a commitment. Coaches talk about that, too. The need to get their athletes to commit to their goals. The frustration of coaching someone who says they want to do a 70.3 Ironman but consistently cuts or skips workouts. What can you say to motivate someone like that? At what point do you give up? Wait for them to fail miserably on race day, then say "I told you so?" Nobody wants that.
Real commitment comes from inside, a place very close to what we often refer to as ones heart. Far more than a decision to do something, real commitment is an extension of our innermost self. You know this is true by the emotions associated with the decision. Going to the mall for a pack of CR2032 batteries? No big deal. Drop in at your favorite triathlon shop to purchase a new Garmin FR935? That will trigger some commitment angst in me. Buying a new bike? Lots of emotion there. Getting married? Over the top, as it should be due to the level of commitment involved. Nobody tells you to feel that way. It is not something they teach you at school. Those emotions run deep, and the stronger they feel the more committed you will be.
Commitment is great for staying on course, even on the long path to a difficult goal like a race that is still six months off in the future. As useful as it is, commitment alone to one grand goal is seldom enough. I find it helps to break a large goal into smaller, intermediate goals, and committing to those. Eat the whale one bite at a time.Even then the process will become stale. The cure? Put some fun back into it.
Recently I stumbled onto a great way to accomplish this. I am restoring an old road bike I have had stashed away for years. A handmade Davidson I bought from the original owner way back at the start of my late-in-life cycling hobby. Bill Davidson is still making bikes in Seattle. His current offerings are all titanium, but back when mine was made they were steel. Hand cut, hand welded, hand finished. The seller told me the only way to get one was to visit the Davidson shop, which he did. I paid $600 for it, more than I was planning to spend but a bargain considering what it cost new.
When I bought it back around 1996 it came with, as far as I can tell, a Shimano Dura-Ace 7400 group set, with down tube snifters. It had mismatched Mavic wheels, because the owner raced in crits and broke the original rear in a hard crash. He loved the bike and I can see why. The geometry is tight and it corners like a sports car. After a year or two the rear shifter indexing broke, most likely a victim of one of those hard crashes, so I decided to convert from down tube to STI shifters, new Dura-Ace clipless pedals, and some other bits like a fancy titanium stem and Dura-Ace wheels. I think the nine speed cassette that is on it now is original, but it may have come with an eight speed.
I will be posting more details as the restoration progresses. The point I am making today is that this is something I can have fun with and still incorporate into my cycling activities. I am not planning to win any races with this bike, only to have fun riding it. No pressure, just fun.
Here are some pics of the early stages of dismantling.
