I Will Buy the Muffins

I am searching for the quote.

Day 271. I have, literally, rode hard and will be put away wet (as soon as I get out of the shower). My hunch is that I will not write long this evening. I want to use the here-and-now to process the past couple of days' worth of heres-and-nows. I recognize the idiocy of that statement, but somehow, as I typed it, it made a strange and perfect sense.

There is nothing like participating in a group endeavor to be reminded of how far I have yet to go regarding my practice and the principles that form its bedrock. On our return trip from Tyler this morning, we had ridden less than five miles when a team with whom we had not previously had the great and good fortune to ride threw down the gauntlet during the first major climb. It did not require astute powers of observation to recognize them as Alphas. Clearly, they were accustomed to being the first tandem to top each hill - regardless of who they were riding with. I suppose our presence as newcomers necessitated an (undoubtedly biologically based) display of dominance. Ah, such is sport.

To me, it seemed a bit early in the day for gauntlet throwing, but I am not the person at the controls of our tandem. As the other team rocketed down the descent prior to the first climb, leaving the rest of us in their distant wake, me and my captain momentarily observed them. "Hmmm," we thought, "What's this? They seem to be riding a bit aggressively." There was the tiniest pause in my captain, as though he were weighing the decision to give chase. A (fast beating) heartbeat passed. I felt my captain shift his position on the bike, moving into the tight tuck that signals MY tight tuck, which results in an extreme acceleration on the downhills. "Hmmm," I thought. "Appears as though we are going to chase them."

There are infinite subtleties in cycling technique, and I don't presume to know a fraction of them. What I do know is that there comes a point at which two slender, cardiovascularly superior people who can spin really fast cannot keep up with two not-so-slender, incredibly strong people who spin a little less fast in a much larger gear. On a good day, when we are both on our game, my captain and I are freakishly strong. We combine our strength with an obscenely efficient pedal stroke and a couple of well-conditioned (and well worn) blood pumpers. Long hills are our specialty. The longer the climb, the better we pedal. Needless to say, we caught the Alphas and dropped them like frat boys hurling pumpkins from an overpass.

We were far classier than frat boys, however. We weren't showy, or arrogant, or excessive. We just held our momentum, and steadily, soundly outperformed them to the crest of the hill. Didn't look like we were exerting especially hard as we did it. Watched them throw another gauntlet as they sped past us on the descent (we weren't yet pedaling), then soundly beat them again. Repeated the scenario over four more hills. Consecutively. It felt very different from the spirited, good-humored hill competitions we engaged in with our friends the day before, in which we shouted out encouragement and complimented one another. At least to the other team, the stakes seemed pretty high. Alpha battling at its most intense. I had visions of those humongous bull elk on the Discovery Channel - gnashing their antlers in fierce battle for the prize of the alpha female.

After the fourth hill victory, my captain grew weary of reacting to hurled gauntlets. I'm pretty sure he, along with all the other teams observing the competition from a safe distance, knew who was going home with the prize. He checked in with me to see how I was feeling (I was on an adrenaline high and could easily have pedaled to the moon - just like ET). I said, "Great!" and we blasted away, riding the final 12 miles to the half way point alone. There wasn't a tandem within a quarter mile of us. We reached the rest stop at the bakery in Edom, stripped off our helmets, gloves, and CamelBacks, and posed the bike for a photo op. In the world of cycling, that is a LOT of elapsed time before the rest of the group rode up.

Before long, the entire group of tandem teams collected at the bakery and we chomped on muffins and cookies in great fellowship. Discussed the lovely weather and route options for the remaining fifty miles. The Alphas caught up with us on the wide veranda of the bakery. We talked bike parts and muffin texture. That's all. As for cycling ability, there was nothing left to be said. At least for today.

I have much to learn regarding the juncture at which Buddhism intersects competition. Sport is a vital part of my life, so I will aim my practice at reconciling loving kindness with thrashing the occasional tandem team on hills. I am feeling hopeful. Sports history is resplendent with gracious winners. New year, I will buy the muffins.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc