Living with the Friction

Pedal

The workout never actually starts when I get on the bike. It starts just before, while I’m preparing it: pumping up tires, bolting on my gears, wrenching on my wheels.

It’s not hard. It’s just annoying.

By the time I finally get started, I feel drained already after spending my motivation on setup instead of the actual effort.

Once I settle into the warm-up, my focus shifts on to the workout at hand.

The session calls for several gear changes throughout, so that means getting off the bike multiple times to make more adjustments.

When it’s all through, my legs are heavy and my energy is spent. I’m just thinking about a shower and refueling, nothing else.

But the work isn’t done.

It’s time to put things back where they belong: replacing my gears, unhooking the trainer, putting my wheels back on.

I don’t really have to do any of it. No one would know if I didn’t.

I can either pay the price now, or defer it and pay with interest before I ride again tomorrow.

Either way, I know I’ll repeat some version of this all over again with the next ride.

Prosper

I’ve learned not all progress lives in the big efforts or the intervals.

I’m seeing how much of the process relies on doing the small, unglamourous tasks: the setup before, the adjustments during, and the reset at the end. These are parts that feel like they get in the way of what I actually want to do.

Avoiding these things won’t make them disappear.

I don’t need to love these small tasks. I’m accepting they’re a part of the deal so I want to make peace with them.

The training process isn’t only about the sprints. It’s also being able to manage these inconveniences without letting them dictate my energy.

Seeing it this way helps me turn friction into something else: an opportunity to build patience.

What small part of your process creates the most friction, and how are you learning to live with it?

Pedal through the details.
Prosper by making peace with them.