Politely schooling a Pansy Boy

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."

---T.R.

I find solace in the spoken word of Theodore (our 26th president). Solace from a rather humbling activity that I recently participated in. Today is Tuesday....two days after my first mountain bike race in about a decade. The physical soreness of the event is gone, however the mental soreness lingers. Frankly speaking, I got schooled. I finished 274th out of 299 riders in my distance category for the day.

I shall now begin the re-building process of the endurance athlete that I used to know. A Marshall Plan if you will; perhaps I shall deem it the "Mark, you were a Pansy, now get off your arse and train Plan" or "Operation Pansy Boy" for short. OPB...you down with it.

The little voices in my head I shall contend with, but a matter that is much more worthy of discussion were the voices I heard along the race course. I am convinced that XC mountain bike racers are the most polite athletes I have ever encountered. It is customary for a biker passing another rider to shout out "track" or "on your right/left" as they approach a slower rider.

"On your left" was a mantra that kept repeating itself in my mind even though I was not consciously chanting it. Actually it was more like..."when it's safe, can I get by on your left?" "Coming up on your left, when you're ready." I heard this at least 150 times as polite and cool as could be. It was almost a Zen-like experience...singletrack, trees budding, flowing streams, thighs burning, people getting along. And after each pass, a "thank you" and/or "Keep it up dude."

And then there were the little voices....the "go daddy go" and the "da da da da". Again, a beautiful experience....my hottie wife and beautiful bambinos standing before green grassy slopes in the sun and sending good vibrations my way.

Well, I think I need to go for a ride tonight.

Look, listen, feel,
Ostrich