The Wholey Trinity

To have some deep feeling about Buddhism is not the point; we just do what we should do, like eating supper and going to bed. This is Buddhism. - Shunryu Suzuki in the Zen Calendar (April 23, 2003)

Day 65. My sixty-fifth post feels like a milestone because the remaining 300 to my goal is such a nice, round number. It feels really good. Not to mention tonight's training ride. Calm winds. Flat terrain. I may have just arrived in Nirvana.

I have continued to think about balance, or lack thereof. Spring is definitively a favorite season of mine, but as living things surrounding us gradually wake up, we humans (in all our excess!) seem to shoot past a natural emergence from winter straight into a frenetic sprint to the heat of summer. I miss moderation.

I dallied briefly in triathlon events before a back injury forced me to give up running (dreadful as that was, it opened up the gift of competitive cycling.) A freakish talent for fast swimming and my unquestionably immoderate degree of competitiveness contributed to frequent times on the podium for my age group (at the time, my group was, essentially, the youngest of the old ladies). It was immeasurably gratifying to place among such strong athletes, but the necessary training was grueling. I think the mental strain of "Gotta swim gotta bike gotta run" took the greatest toll. As a single mother and new business owner, my schedule wasn't exactly conducive to extensive multisport preparation. I was tipped so far out of balance, it's a wonder I didn't just slide off the scale. Depending on the unit of measure, I probably did slide off a few things.

The first thing triathlon competition taught me was that the whole was greater than the sum of its parts. I didn't do IronWoman distances, so when I broke down the individual distances of the swim, the bike, and the run, it always felt like a very reasonable thing to tackle. I learned in my first race, however, that stringing together the three distances in quick succession was strenuously demanding, indeed. I was not mentally prepared for the transitions: how tired my swim legs would feel on the bike and how awkward my cycling legs would feel when I abruptly required them to run. I had not accurately anticipated the experience of the combined events. The proverbial missing the forest for the trees. Physically and mentally, I had approached each sport with the preparation congruent with competing in it as a single event. Executing all three was a different beast altogether. I didn't place in the first triathlon I entered. When I crossed the finish line, I was stunned and humbled.

One cool thing about being low on the learning curve is the inevitable early momentous improvements. It is a bit intoxicating - right up to the point where gain is gauged in much smaller increments. It didn't occur to me until today that I have a new triad of events I prepare for: Cycling, Meditating/Blogging, and Doctoring. Taken separately, each role feels meaningful and manageable. The combination, however, is exacting a toll. You would think I'd learn.

I'm not sure what the future holds as I grapple with trying to regain balance. I do know that my dogs keep looking at me pitifully and my partner, despite his touching unconditional support, increasingly falls asleep during the nightly Reading of the Blog. This needs some Cushion Time. Good thing, since that is my favorite event.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc