One of my favourite training rides is from my home in Poole, over Poole Quay, through Sandbanks, along the promenade to Bournemouth Pier, and back. It’s not the most challenging ride, Evening Hill on the way from Lilliput to Sandbanks, and more particularly on the way back, is the only climb of any note whatsoever.
It’s a round trip of roughly 27.5 kilometres, about 17 miles in old money, so plenty of chance to stretch the legs. Until yesterday, I had been taking just over an hour to complete the trip, despite trying really hard to dip under that ‘magical’ sixty minute mark.
I was beginning to think it was impossible, for me at least. But I’m no quitter, and determination, or bloody minded pig-headedness, call it what you will, drove me to keep trying. It almost felt that the more I tried, the further I got from my goal, until last night.
With the evenings now really drawing in, I got home and changed in double quick time. I was out of the door and on the road by 6:00pm, and the legs felt good. There were fewer people around than of late, it was getting quite chilly, so the prom was clear and I made good progress.
Reaching the pier, I glanced at my watch and was surprised to see that it had only taken me twenty six minutes to get there. So thirty three minutes to get back under the hour. I gritted my teeth, selected the biggest gear I could turn and set off back up the prom.
It felt as though nature was doing its worst, the wind felt like it was against me, holding me back, even though the odd flag around was lying limply against its flagpole. I caught and passed several other cyclists, one of them on the approach to Evening Hill. He tried to draught me, to hide away from the wind behind my frame, but he couldn’t match my pace.
By the time I was back on Poole Quay, there were only six minutes left. My heart was pounding, 158 beats per minute according to the heart monitor, my legs were burning and my lungs felt like they might burst, but I was not going to give in now. I turned into Lulworth Avenue, straight into a headwind, the flag in the park even confirmed it, so I just dug deeper.
As I swung into the drive, I pressed the stop button on the bike computer and looked at the time. I really wasn’t sure whether I had made it or not, so Getting back into the apartment, I stowed the bike and downloaded the data.
Fifty eight minutes and twenty two seconds!!! The barrier had been broken, all the pain and suffering had been forgotten and my determination had paid off. The elation was worth every drop of sweat, every ache and pain I felt. Its a small goal in the great scheme of things, but it was my goal and I reached it.
So never forget the eternal truth, that we only ever lose when we concede that we have lost. Having the courage, patience and determination to press on, even when all the signs are telling us to stop, to give in, to cut and run, can lead to unexpected results.
Remaining calm, collected, objective and compassionate, even when the circumstances may be urging you to move in other directions, is a feature of our nature that requires time, practice and patience to perfect. Like cycling, you have to put in the effort to see the rewards.
I don’t think it is simply a coincidence that practice, meaning repeating a task or skill to improve your proficiency, and Buddhist practice, use the same word. As Gary Player, the famous golfer once said of his game, ‘the more I practice, the luckier I get’. Luck has nothing to do with it, as he and we know it all too well.
So if you find the odds stacked against you or get disheartened by the way events seem to be going, believe in yourself and your practice. You might be surprised by what actually happens. So apply for that job, write that email or make that phone call, what have you got to lose?
Yesterday and today could not have been much more different if they had tried. Yesterday I spent most of the day encouraging, cajoling and a couple of times, pushing someone to conquer a task that in actual fact, was way outside their comfort zone, namely cycling the fifty odd kilometres from Poole to Weymouth. That involved a great deal of talking, as you might expect.
Dorset is a beautiful county, and the ride from Poole to Weymouth by way of Wareham and East and West Lulworth allows you see the very best of it. Although there is no gain without a little pain, some of the hills on the route are not for the faint hearted particularly the 1 in 5 climb up Grange Hill.
Sometimes we have an opportunity to do something different, something that takes us out of our comfort zone, and challenges our courage and determination. At that point we have a choice to make. Do we grasp the opportunity with both hands, jump in with both feet, or do we tell ourselves that it’s more prudent to back away and take the safe route?
You know there feeling, you’ve got a closer look at a possible problem, and the closer you look, the more nerve wracking the challenge becomes. So it was with my ride back to Poole today. Having done the journey hundreds of times in the car, I got an ‘up close and personal’ look at all the hills on my way up to Bristol on Friday, so I knew what was now in store for me on my way home.
The ride down the other side is a real treat, but then you hit Whiteway Road, and in trying to negotiate a grotty surface I lost all my momentum. The walk up to the cemetery, to a point where I could safely get myself going again was a real disappointment.
Making good use of my time up in Bristle, I was pleased to go along to the Bristol Rovers vs. Scunthorpe United game, at the Memorial Ground this afternoon. Rob, his Dad Barry and Jake are avid Gas Heads, and I am accepted as an honorary fan whilst I’m up there.
Shortly after kick off, The Gas suffered another blow as captain Tom Parkes was stretchered off with concussion, being substituted by the exotically named Santos. So it was left up to the talented younger squad members to take on a much more mature Scunthorpe side.
If you missed all the signs in the last few days, I embarked on a mini marathon of a bike ride today, cycling from Poole, in deepest Dorset, to Hanham in Bristol, partly to visit my girls, their men and my grandsons, but partly to test my physical and mental strength by riding a distance I haven’t attempted for years.
No this isn’t a question about the motto of the Boy Scout movement. It is about being ready to face whatever life may throw at you. Life challenges us daily. There are joyous days and days of suffering. Sometimes really unpleasant things happen, but this variety is actually what makes life so interesting. The dramas we encounter are part and parcel of being human.
When times are easy and things go our way, it is deceptively easy to stick to the plan. It is when things go wrong, problems arise or we are distracted from our Practice that we need to summon up our inner strength.
Apart from being a dedicated Nichiren Buddhist, I have a science and maths background, and I love to know how and why things work. So I’ve been doing the maths behind my weight loss, and the numbers are almost unbelievable.
The Search For Enlightenment 
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