There comes a moment, every time I'm doing intervals on the turbo—every time—where I realise I'm getting in my own way.
The timer has started, I've upped the gears, stuck the music on louder, maybe got up out of the saddle at first, before slumping back down. I'm pedalling harder and my heart rate has started to go through the roof.
I hit my target power. Now to hold it there. Cruise in the zone.
But I'm not cruising at all. I'm fighting it.
I'm focused on the way my breath catches with each inhalation.
I'm really aware of the subtle, familiar pain of lactate building in my legs.
I can feel the panic rising within me: I can't do this for 10 minutes!
My breath is ragged. My face is contorted in a grimace. My neck and shoulders strain. I'm grasping the bars in a vice-like grip.
And then I see it. Every time.
👀
I see the way I'm fighting it. I see the way I'm making it way worse than it needs to be.
The interval is happening. I've committed to it.
The sensations are all there. But they can't damage me; not in any meaningful way.
I'm human. I'm built for this.
I suddenly relax into the sensations. Drop all the fight. Surrender to it.
Shoulders relax. Hands rest gently on the bars. Legs keep spinning. Breath deepens and slows. Heart rate comes down a smidge. Power output stays the same.
Mood rises: I like this!
My mind wanders, I revel in the same insight as always.
This insight.
The next time I look down, I'm over my target – at 11 minutes.
Might as well do 15, eh?
So often we fight the sensations of life.
Push our emotions away. Tense ourselves against them.
Oh god I'm just gonna have to get through this I don't know if I can…! 😩
Relax.
Surrender. Commit to life.
It can't damage you; not in any meaningful way.
You're human. You're built for this.
💟
Giles
Related
Like reading about cycling? Here are all my bike-related posts