Sweat
dripped silently from my nose onto my handlebars, I begrudgingly dropped a
gear and forced myself to lift my head
as the road lifted again and switched back on itself. With the begginings of
lactate buzzing through my legs my mind rushed through a slideshow of the year
to this point pausing on a single phrase... “Granola is a gateway drug”.
Saying yes to
that first delicious, sugary, crunchy spoonful can very rapidly descend into a shaking
the final crumbs from the bottom of the box straight into your (my) mouth, this had fast become a Granola cycling tour.
A motorbike
with an overweight leather-clad couple overtook with an angry engine rev.
“Granola junkies right there” Yeah, cereal has made us soft (round the edges).
Its comfort and convenience clouds our judgement, have you ever looked at an actual
recommended serving size of granola in a bowl; it’s nothing!
I squinted
sun and sweat out of my eyes. I have a habit of throwing caution (and recommended
serving sizes) to the wind and going four box deep in granola, as in life (any doctors reading this, I do not have a granola binge eating problem, mostly, its a metaphor.) Frustration coursed through me. You’re
impulsive and it’s going to get you into trouble. My hair caught between the back of
my neck and my helmet, I flicked my head in irritation.
The
slideshow rushed through my mind again, throwing caution to the wind is what
got you here. Here, happened to be a mountain in Mallorca, I’d booked flights
two weeks before when some pals had mentioned they were going to ride some
mountains and do an Ironman and I thought, fuck it…GRANOLA…. I mean MALLORCA! In
that moment of trying to distract myself from the suffering I realised the trip
was the culmination of a series of “fuck it yes” decisions which had come to
define twenty sixteen thus far and that being impulsive and just saying yes had
resulted in a new job, meeting some amazing new people, visting some incredible
places, and learning more about myself in 9 months than I had in probably all
the years since leaving university.
Another
switch, left this time. GET UP and use your legs. I was begginging to
understand the obsession with climbing that I heard tales told about for the
three months since joining Rapha. I hated the burning in my lungs and the heat
trapped in my helmet, but with every twist of the road I climbed on, feeling
the hill sap at my energy.
Real growth in life is usually triggered by some kind of trauma. Loss. Uncontrollable change. Suffering. It forces us to step back and evaluate our motivations and decisions, what do we truly value. The low level lactate buzz had developed into a vice like grip on my quads. The thought that maybe I was incapable of climbing a mountain had never actually crossed my mind. Had my typical jump and think later impulsive attitude meant I'd completely underestimated the task at hand? Bernard Hinault said of climbing “Tant que
je respire, j' attaque!" - As long as I breathe, I attack!
Over the
top. I rounded the next corner and without warning the road twisted away before
my front wheel, azure water as far as I could see melting into bright clear
blue sky. A wave of endorphins and relief rushed up my body.
There were
car and coach loads of tourists at the viewpoint all snapping away at the
panoramic scenes. I rolled to a stop off the road and sank onto my crossbar, right
foot still clipped in, surveying the crowd. Why suffer the climb when you could
get in a car? Why strive for something that could could be a crushing failure when theres always an easy way up.
A friend with
more life, and cycling, experience than me recently warned “Soon you’ll realise
Lara, that mostly life is just a bit shit.” At the time my heart sank, and in
cycling terms I pulled over to the side of the road and climbed off my bike. Then
I remembered how i'd come to meet that friend in the first place, a
thousand tiny coincidences, clicking into place through the daily grind, and a
fuck it Granola! attitude, screw the consequences.
Yep. Most of
the time life is just grinding up a massive hill with no idea what's round the next bend. But, if you surrender
to the road, accept that the grind is what helps you grow and fail to think of the chances of failing, occasssionally you’ll round a corner and unexpectedly life rewards
you with an incredible view.
