The online peleton
I think of myself as a bicyclist. I almost always ride alone. I ride hard and feel good about it afterwards.
On Saturday, I did 50 miles on my road bike—a good distance but not terribly special, or difficult. Except for one thing. This time I was riding with a friend and he pounded me into the ground. I suffered on the flats and even more on the hills, pushing as hard as I could and still watching him steadily pull away. We’d stop at a crossroads and he’d ask which way we should go. Inside I kept saying, “Oh damn, oh damn, the short way, whatever’s the short way. Get me home, make it end. Please.”
But out loud I’d answer, “It’s your ride. You pick.” So I suffered, and when it was over, finally, I was spent and I was sore.
But I knew I’d had an excellent ride, maybe one of my best rides ever. Not just because I was challenged and had a great workout, but because I learned so much. The main lesson was that I can’t do it alone. I’ve been riding regularly but always by myself—with no-one there to push me, kick my ass, rub my nose in the dirt.
So now I have to rev up my solo rides 3 or 4 notches, and I have to find some group rides and some training partners. They’ll make me hurt and that’s what I need if I’m going to get better.
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It’s the same thing with all my wonderful thoughts and ideas about what we’re experiencing online and in other media. I read, watch, observe, and my reactions are so terribly clever. Or at least that’s what I think. But if I don’t put my thoughts out there—and give others the chance to ignore them, or shoot them down, or maybe even appreciate them and make them better—then I’m just riding alone and probably not riding all that well. If I don’t join the group ride, I’m not going to grow.