Category: Ride

Depending on your own two feet to get you where you want to go is a great thing. Putting two wheels under your feet adds speed and power to your determination to get up and go!

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Don’t Psych Yourself Out!

The Mountain

Sometimes we focus on the mountain. We become fixated on the seemingly insurmountable obstacle we would never even dream of overcoming. Ironically, it’s the self-defeating language we speak to our inner selves that leads to poor imagination. We predetermine we are not able to do, to conquer, to overcome what is before us then we lay down and play dead… or put our heads in the dirt… or crawl into caves for extended hibernations.

Alternatively, we can choose to simply look at the mountain for what it is: something that has multiple sides and levels. There is always a way up, over, around, under and through it. Be assured, getting to the other side is achievable. Remembering this simple truth about every impossible situation will shift perspective and focus immeasurably. The mountain may not become a molehill, but it will become manageable. It can then be approached as a challenge or trial in need of an action plan.

Mind Shift

When we no longer view our obstacles as insurmountable they stop being the opposition of our life, the limits of creative thought, the borders of vision and the anchors of our energy.

How we react to external problems reflect our internal conflicts. The human condition seems to be a lifelong process of constantly striving to get to the other side of fear, and therefore to the other side ourselves. First, we have to see that it’s possible to do so.

The Process of Change

A few days ago, I resuscitated my bike; it had been sitting on flats in the garage for over a year. One of the things that attracted me to the Sonoran Desert was the thought of cycling with my camera throughout the year. Unfortunately, when I got here, everything about riding in the desert seemed like a death wish. Long expanses of curving road. Impatient drivers. Wild animals. Cactus needles. Dehydration. Sun-burn. Unending upward mountain climbs.

The fear snuck up on me.

I had been riding around New York City and parts of New Jersey since 2011. I had done cycling events – The Five Boro Ride several times, a couple of half centuries, and countless other organized and solo rides. Yet, I when I got to a wide open road in the desert, I believed the limits of my sight. New York City didn’t have mountains! Where’s the shade? Where can I rest? What if I run out of water? What if I get hit and no one sees me in a ditch?

The obstacles I created impaired my ability to actually do one of the things I enjoy most and something I’ve wanted all my life to do around the world. During the two years I’ve had my bike in Arizona, I’ve gotten on it no more than two or three times.

Getting to the Other Side

All this to say, the other day I went out on my bike for the first time in a long while. For two days prior, I had walked a nearly three-mile route. The same route I had tried to ride last year and ended up feeling as if I had outdone myself with. It completely took my breath away, or more aptly, it was so hard to breathe that I turned around and went home. One and half miles did me in. And kept me off my bike for a year. I could have pushed through. I could have tried again that next day. I did neither. I limited myself and refused to even try again.

This time, I did push through. This time I huffed and puffed up this incline and whoo-hooooed all the way down! The downhill return was mind-blowingly-smooth and I basically coasted back to my subdivision gate. The below video was made during this ride. In it I talk about how the payoff is worth the effort.

Remember Who You Are

When I got home, I reviewed my ride stats on my phone and saw old ride stats that sort of blew my mind.

This three-mile roundtrip in my neighborhood had an elevation gain of 269 feet. Isolated, that sounds like a lot. The 269-foot climb must be what took my breath away, or so I thought. But my old stats show rides around Manhattan with 100 to 600 feet of elevation gain. One Staten Island event had a route elevation gain of 3203 feet. Since the highest point I reached was 396 feet above sea level (practically the tallest peak on the island), I believe the gain indicates the combination of hills I went up that day.

While writing this piece, I’ve finally realized I never accounted for the need to acclimate to a higher overall elevation. New York City is 33 feet above sea level. My home address in Marana, Arizona is at 2425 feet above sea level. My lungs are working harder here due to altitude and thinner arid air.

Sometimes we have to give ourselves a break and consider the practical elements of our environment and what adjustments we need to make to adapt better.

I had long proven to myself I’m capable of overcoming physical obstacles. Yet when my new environment proved more of a challenge than I expected, I gave up. I didn’t examine why it was more challenging or how I could adapt to the environmental changes. Focusing on the mountain ranges surrounding me defeated me. I psyched myself out.

Now that I’ve reminded myself that I did more in New York than I’ve even attempted in Arizona, I’m gonna retrieve that fearless, can-do attitude and go ride these desert roads!

Be blessed. Don’t psych yourself out. Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving! Amen!

Related posts:

I used to be an athlete.

Bike the Boros: Staten Island

Morning Stretch and Praise Break

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Hospice Racing Is an End-of-Life Celebration

This is a great read –

The hospital told him there was nothing else they could do for him. Wally Ghia decided there was something he could do for himself that was a lot better than sitting in a room and waiting to die. He got back on his bike.

For some inspiration and motivation, read the full article here!

wally-ghia

Source: Bicycling.com, November 1, 2016

Hospice Racing Is an End-of-Life Celebration by Ian Dille

http://www.bicycling.com/culture/motivation/hospice-racing-is-an-end-of-life-celebration?utm_source=BKE01&utm_medium=email&smartcode=YN_0006952314_0001584389

 

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Bike the Boros: Staten Island

Bike the Boros: Staten Island
First ride event of the 2016 season
April 17, 2016

The primary motivating cycling goal for this year was for me to ride in the 5 Boro Bike Tour on May 1. The 5 Boro is a 40 mile ride that winds through all five boroughs of New York City. That was going to be my kickoff event for the cycling season. Unfortunately, I missed registration. I was a bit bummed, but there was still the opportunity to volunteer for the ride which meant I would still get some mileage in.

A couple of weeks ago, however, I got an email about the approaching registration deadline for the Bike the Boros: Staten Island ride, with 35 and 50 mile routes around Staten Island. It sounded like a great replacement event for the one I missed even though it’s two weeks earlier than I was planning and my cycling training has almost been non-existent.

This is an event journal for my first cycling event of the 2016 season.

7:00-9:00 am

Today is the day. I got up, got prepped and got out.

The ferry ride to Staten Island was uneventful and now I’m just waiting for the day to unfold and see how I handle the 35 mile route.

9:40

Made it to registration before they closed down at 9:30. Hit the road at 9:40.

11:00-11:25

Rest area 1 @ 12miles Already exceeded my expectations!! I was ready to exit the route by mile 3. Staten Island is hilly! Who knew?!?!?

I am super proud of myself for pushing through the hills and making it to the first rest stop. Making it to the first rest stop usually means you can make it to the second. And once you make it to the second rest stop you’re pretty much done. #crossingmyfingers

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My mapping software is off by about 8 miles. It looks like it didn’t catch all of the mileage of the first leg of my route.

12:30-1:00

Second rest stop @ mile 24. Made it. I was seriously looking for the exit 4 miles back. This hill was literally the last straw. Then I looked at my route sheet and saw that I was only 4 miles away from the rest stop. I sat on a retaining wall for a while catching my breath and gathering my strength to tackle this steep hill. Ended up walking my bike up the hill. Then got back on. It’s important to always get back on.

The downhill on the other side of this hill was a mix of reward and terror, like: a lil’ bit of “Oh yay! Downhill!” with a lot of “Oh shit! This is treacherous!” It was a steep, winding downhill road with no shoulder to speak of, two-way traffic with a lot of pot holes, a couple of stop signs peppering the decline and a couple of hairpin sharp turns coming off the hill thrown in for good measure. Not for the faint of heart. But who knew that was coming?

@Mile 12: At the second rest stop – finally getting some confidence!
@Mile 29-30: A group literally flagged me down on the last leg to take their picture. I was extremely annoyed because I was pysching myself up to finish and I had a good cadence going. This was about 5-6 miles from the finish line. I asked for my own photo in return.
@Mile 19-20: Doesn’t look like much here, but this is the hill that had me ready to throw in the towel. Photo taken from halfway up.
Another angle of the hill from the incline to turn into it.
@Mile 31: The final stretch was along an amazing red sand beach. I wanted to stop and enjoy, but overhearing someone else snapping that she “just wanted to finish this thing!” kept me pedalling.
@Mile 35: I paused on the final incline overloocking the finish line party. I won’t say how I cursed this incline before I saw the finish line….

2:23

Finish line!

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I did it.

Pretty much from the beginning of this ride, I was ready to give up. Even before the ride. I had to talk myself into showing up. I didn’t prep the night before as I should have. Prepping in the morning delayed my departure, so much so that I thought I would miss registration and riding with any group of riders. Getting to the start line required a forty minute subway ride, a mile and half of cycling and a half hour ferry ride.

The commitment is certainly in the start. Perhaps that’s why starting is so hard. So I am most proud that I started. By starting and not giving up when the course proved to be harder than I expected, I achieved my first goal of the ride: making it to the first rest stop. Achieving that first goal propelled me to achieving the ultimate goal for the day: finishing the course.

At no point before I started, did I plan on or expect that I would finish the 35 miles I signed up for. Even at the first rest stop, I was telling myself I could stop at 20 miles and I would be okay with that. I was about to throw my hat in when I saw the crazy hill. When I looked at my cue sheet I realized I was only four of miles away from the second rest stop. I knew I could do four more miles. The rest stops are where cyclists are able to get off their bikes, use the restroom, refill on water, eat (usually fresh fruit, bagels, and granola; sometimes PBJ sandwiches and other goodies; or bagged lunches). And of course, take a breather. The rest stops are crucial for all the refueling you need. When you get back on, you’re better than fresh – you have the second wind that isn’t hindered by heart palpitations and your movement is more fluid from the prior “warm-up” round(s).

As I got up from my breather at the bottom of that hill I was ready to call a taxi from, I knew if I made the second rest stop, I could finish the course. I didn’t see the end until I was close to it. Focusing on the step in front of me is what got me through the whole challenge. I think this is true for most things in life.

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“I rode the Staten Island Half Century” Not quite half, but I’m keeping the t-shirt!

 

 

 

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Nothing says love like a home-cooked meal – so I cooked for myself instead of going to Chipotle for a chicken burrito! A lot of veggies, some baked chicken and bit of guacamole. 😉 #lightsout

 

 

 

 

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First ride of the season & Tour de Cure ATL

In 2011, I decided to start cycling. I connected with someone who was an avid cyclist and very knowledge about the cycling community in New York City. She introduced me to her bike shop and I got fitted for my first serious bike. I went with a hybrid. In May 2012, I rode in my first event, the Five Boro Bike Tour in NYC. I was off to a strong start… and very enjoyable. I don’t think I thought seriously about racing, but it turned out that I thoroughly enjoyed the touring events through the City and countryside. During the last ride of the 2012 season, I got hit by a SUV during my 11th mile. I’ve tried getting back on my bike a few times since, but it’s been hard. I was more traumatized by being hit than I was willing to admit to myself.

I had many false starts trying to return to cycling. There were several occasions when I got dressed and prepped my bike for a ride and just sat on my sofa and stared at it. There were other times when I paid for cycling events and didn’t even show up. A year or two ago, I got as far as 26 miles into a 40 mile ride before giving up – mostly from lack of preparation and practice beforehand; it was the first long ride I had attempted since being hit a couple of years prior.

Last year, I decided 2016 would be a year of cycling for me. I determined that I would set aside the fear and anxiety of sharing the road with motorists and put myself back into the flow of traffic. I did a commute to/from work and a group ride during the fall. The commute was devastating and traumatic because of traffic, construction detours and the absence of a dedicated bike lane on the route and detours I took. The group ride was amazing, invigorating and freeing! It took place on a crisp, clear day in early December with the NYC chapter of Black Girls Do Bike, an organization of women cyclists who ride at the pace of their slowest rider (i.e. no one is left behind). We rode from Midtown Manhattan to Brooklyn for a book event. From that ride I signed up for my first event for the 2016 season: the American Diabetes Association Tour de Cure Atlanta. This is my first fund-raising biking event. **I would be very grateful for your contribution towards my $200 fundraising goal.**

My goal is to get in 2-3 commutes per week plus a weekend ride. To this end, I got out for my first conditioning ride/commute last week. It was a beautiful day that called for the wind blowing through my hair.

Temp the day after the ride was pretty much the same
The Hudson River Greenway is along side the Westside Highway but completely separated from the flow of traffic.
The ride home

 

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I used to be an athlete.

Last week, I did a consultation with a personal trainer at a new fitness center. My weight is abysmal and depressing. Even when I was at a comfortable, healthy and attractive weight 15 years ago, doctors thought I was overweight. Now, some 70lbs plus later, I must say I finally agree with the doctors. Although I don’t look at myself as some blob of fat, as a couple of doctor’s looks have suggested thoughts along that line. To the contrary, I see my best body to come inside of the frame I’m walking around in now. So I look at myself with curiosity. And wonder. Is this as big as I’m going to allow myself to get? How did I get this large, round and wide? What would it take for me to get motivated to get moving on a consistent basis? Have I had enough of not feeling like myself?

I’ve had some good excuses over the years for not keeping to an active schedule. This year, I’ve left them all behind. This year is the year I focus on my body. On my health. On my energy and stress levels.

Last week, during the consultation, the personal trainer asked about my eating habits and workout routine. I’ve been cleaning up my food intake for years. That’s not the problem. Though I do have an incorrigible sweet tooth. I’ve been sporadically active over the years. Working towards a goal isn’t a problem. I told her, “I used to be an athlete. It’s just a matter of getting back into a routine.”

To her credit, she didn’t look doubtful. She said only, “We’ll schedule an assessment for next week. I would like to see how your body moves.”

So, this morning, I surprised myself by waking up before my alarm and getting out of bed an hour earlier than my norm. I got ready in record time. Remembered to pack work clothes and grabbed a water bottle. I made the 8:00AM appointment on time – with energy. The biggest shock was that I wasn’t dragging.

I used to be a morning person, too.

Unfortunately, over the last couple of years, it has become harder and harder to drag myself out of bed in the morning no matter how much sleep I’ve gotten the night before. My days have offered very little to look forward to. Today was different.

My new personal trainer – I had committed to a package by the end of the assessment session – lit a fire in me. She recognized and connected with something in me that very few people see and acknowledge. “You’ve proved that you used to be an athlete,” she said at the end of the session, “I can see it in your form and the way you move.”

Early on when she first commented on my form (I’ve received compliments on my form and posture all my life so I didn’t take it as false flattery at all), I said, “Luckily for me, the body remembers. Muscle memory – I just have to get myself moving.”

“Yes, muscle memory. The body does remember. Working out is just like riding a bike too.”

Halfway through the assessment, she observed, “You need a sergeant. Someone to push you. You are capable of so much more than you think. I’m really impressed with you.”

**Cue warm fuzzy feelings**

Her physical assessment was a full body workout for me which included: various lunges and squats with and without weights, deadlifts (from bar only to 20 then 50lbs added), push-ups, sit-ups, planks and deep stretches. I’m not a profuse sweater, but she had my forearms and forehead dripping in the 35 minutes I was with her. She impressed me.

I’ve been achy all day, but it’s such a great ache to have.

In sharing this, I would like to highlight the importance of committing to yourself. We all have goals for some improvement in our lives. Some of us try to do everything at once. I would like to encourage you to concentrate on one priority for a set period of time. Whatever time period feels right for you. Last year was my “Most Wonderful Year Ever!” I named it before the clock struck 12 on New Year’s Day. It was a high energy year with a lot of bumps, but by the end of it, it had indeed proven to be a wonderful year. This year is not only a focus on my body, it’s a focus on my activity. It’s a cycling year. My goal is to do distance rides and destination rides. In order to achieve those goals, I have to prepare my body to perform the activities I have planned for it. If I know myself half as well as I think I do, I will live and work up to the challenges I have set for myself.

I challenge you to challenge yourself as well in whatever area you feel stuck in. Find a way to jumpstart and get reinforcement encouragement. You can do anything you set your mind to. All you have to do is envision it; make a plan; and go for it!

Be blessed.

LaShawnda

BM Workin it

 

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Song & Verse: Feeling some Jilly from Philly (Jill Scott)

LOTS-Album-Cover-300x282Jill Scott is taking me on a ride today. What an amazing talent. But more than that, this woman speaks a woman’s truth directly with no compromise — from the pure joy to the depressing wretchedness of loving someone. As she says, she is a real woman – she keeps it moving; she holds it down…. Gotta do what a sista gotta do. Gotta make a move.

Here’s a selection of songs from her “Light of the Sun” CD released in June 2011. Today is my first time hearing these songs. I thought she had gone all commercial on me. But I still hear the Jilly from Philly I first loved from “Who is Jill Scott? – Words and Sounds, Vol. 1”. Enjoy!

SHAME by Jill Scott (featuring Eve & The A Group)

SO IN LOVE by Jill Scott (featuring Anthony Hamilton)

HEAR MY CALL by Jill Scott

LE BOOM VENT SUITE by Jill Scott

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Summary of Lessons Learned in December 2012

LaShawnda Jonesby LaShawnda Jones

Click on the passage to read the full post. Enjoy and Happy New Year to all!

Lesson of the season: Our true strength comes from within – from the indwelling Spirit of Christ sustaining us. What you cannot do for yourself, the Holy Spirit will guide and carry you through. This was by far one of the loneliest physical moments of my life, yet I had never been more sure of God’s presence being with me. In that regard, it was by far one of the most enlightening moments of my life.

Lesson 2: When we are able to accept our greatness with a humbleness of spirit – which is knowledge that all that we are is a gift of grace not an act of our will or product of our effort – only then will we walk clear of the fall pride has prepared for us.

Lesson 3: The sin you’re proud of, is the sin that will destroy you. Destruction comes in many forms, but ultimately, destruction is separation from God. Luckily for each of us, God has made a way for us all to get right with Him.

Lesson 4: God is not interested in what you think of yourself when your thoughts do not line up with His thoughts for you and your relationships. It is important to know what God thinks of you, how He hears you and how He sees you. It does your life no good for God to be against you… or rather, for you to be against God. So lay down your pride and avoid experiencing God’s opposition to you. Embrace humbleness in your spirit and experience God’s abounding grace.

Lesson 5: Get over yourself.

Lesson 6: When you enter a season of quiet, just be still.

Lesson 7: Movement is crucial to survival. You can stay stagnant and die or move forward and grow. You may not make it to your ideal destination, but you will make to where you need to be. 

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Last ride of the season.

In September 2012, I collided with an SUV eleven miles into a fifty mile route of an organized ride through New Jersey and New York City. The ride was called, “Escape New York” and was billed as the last ride of the season. After colliding with the SUV, in fact even as I was still sitting in the middle of he street, two ride marshalls approached me. Their first questions were: “Can you get up?” and “Can you finish the ride?”

There was a part me that just wanted to lay there prone on the ground until someone came to lift me up and carry me home. But that’s not the type of care or service I receive in life. I’m a big woman and I’ve noticed through life that people expect me to take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’. When you’re treated like that throughout your life, you learn to do just that. So, I got up.

I still don't believe the smile after picking myself up from the street behind the SUV that cut me off on a downhill slope on September 22, 2012.
I still don’t believe the smile after picking myself up from the street behind the SUV that cut me off on a downhill slope on September 22, 2012.

After getting checked out in the Emergency Room and checking my bike out of the Tenafly Police Station, I got dropped off on the New Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge and rode across into New York City to finish the last five miles of the ride upright and peddling.

The people who heard of my ordeal that day and in the days that followed were impressed with my fortitude. Which stung even more, actually, because they made it sound like I had a choice. Like, I could have chosen to wait for someone to come and rescue me. Like, I could have chosen to wait for a helping hand to appear before me. Again, that’s not the type of care and concern I receive in life. Had I chosen to remain prone in the middle of the street, there I would still be. No one was coming for me. There is no one to claim me or speak for me in my infirmity. That’s a harsh and hard reality I had to come face to face with…and yet, here I am.

Lesson of the season: Our true strength comes from within – from the indwelling Spirit of Christ sustaining us. What you cannot do for yourself, the Holy Spirit will guide and carry you through. This was by far one of the loneliest physical moments of my life, yet I had never been more sure of God’s presence being with me. In that regard, it was by far one of the most enlightening moments of my life.

We fall down…and get up.

A saint is just a sinner who fell down and got back up.
Donnie McClurkin wrote/performed a beautiful song about the process of overcoming – it’s just a matter of getting up and continuing to move forward. Receive your blessings through your trials.