I've been feeling sheepish lately about the fact that I usually drive closer to the trails in order to avoid the big hills that are between the trails and my house. I decided I needed to push myself this week by leaving directly from home on the bike and braving those hills. (This also saves time.)
To get to and from the trail this week, I went down (and then up) a different hill than the one I struggled up with Julio a couple weeks ago (documented in this post). We'll call this new hill "Hill 2." Hill 2 is shorter but steeper than the main hill I use, and there's no real chance to build up any momentum before you start going up it, due to how it's situated. In other words, it's very intimidating!
On Tuesday's bike ride, I tried unsuccessfully to build up a little momentum at the bottom of the hill, then quickly downshifted and just tried to make it to the top. The hill completely kicked my trash! About 2/3 of the way up, my lungs felt like they were going to burst and my legs were on fire. I began having visions of myself losing the energy to keep pedaling and tipping over into the road, still attached to the bike via those wretched clippy pedals. I saw myself lying in the road as cars swerved around me, flailing and struggling like an overturned turtle, my feet stuck and my leg (and ego) bruised. I knew I had to avoid that scenario.
Three-quarters of the way up, I mustered what little strength I had left, yanked one foot out of the pedal, and stopped. Then I unclipped my other foot and dragged my bike over to the grass on the side of the road, where I lay down on my back, panting, for several minutes. When I'd finally gotten my breath back, I walked my bike up to the top of the hill and resumed my ride. Hill 2 had beat me.
When I set out for my ride yesterday, I debated whether I ought to try Hill 2 again, or simply come back home via Hill 1, which I knew I could ride up without stopping. In the end, I decided to try Hill 2 again, even if it meant stopping part way up. I reasoned that I'd never be able to ride all the way up it if I didn't train on it.
I talk to myself a lot when I'm on the bike, as if I'm my own coach, giving myself pep talks, telling myself I can do it, and breaking the daunting tasks in front of me into smaller, more manageable chunks. I've heard from marathon runners that running such a great distance is as much mental as it is physical, and I believe the same is true for any activity that demands a great amount of physical stamina and endurance, including cycling.
Riding up Hill 2 on Saturday required a constant pep talk, a stream-of-consciousness monologue aimed at myself. "You can do it. It's not that far. You don't have to go fast. Just go fast enough not to tip over. Good job. Keep pedaling. Just keep pedaling. Breathe. You can do it. You're almost there. Keep going. You've done the other hill, you can do this one. Breathe. Keep going. Good job. It's going to be ok. You're almost to the top. Good job. Keep going. You can do it."
And I did it! I rode all the way to the top without stopping (or tipping over)! HOORAY!!
True, I was gasping for breath when I got to the top and my legs felt as if they had just had a session with a meat tenderizer--but I DID IT!
I don't know whether I'll have the same success next time I try to conquer Hill 2, but at least now I know I'm capable of it.