This will sound like a whine - that's probably because it is one - but since not many people read this, it won't define me to the world.
I'm really tired of being alone.
One of the aspects of cycling is the alone time. Riding with others, as with any "with other" part of life, requires compromises. And the compromises required usually are made to some other person and their agenda. You have to ride WHEN they want to ride - or you ride alone. You have to ride WHERE they want to ride - or you ride alone. You have to ride at THEIR pace - or you ride alone. And so forth.
Certainly, as a freeborn adult, I am privileged to set my own agenda. And theoretically, if it were a compelling agenda, some would follow me. Apparently it is not a compelling agenda. The aspiration of the crowd is a medium aspiration. Nothing is ever accomplished. We all ride around in a big circle, at a pace anyone could keep, and high-five each other when we are done. "Yea! We've done our 45 miles! Look at us!"
So what? Most of us are overweight, because this ride accounts for 75% or more of all of our riding this week. We ride one "big" ride a year - and subscribe to 1 or 2 cycling magazines. WE ARE CYCLISTS! Nothing. Emptiness. Uselessness. So What?
I have always aspired to "put my money where my mouth is". It's not that I'm "bike crazy", it's just that I will not call myself a cyclist, then not really be one. I want to use my bike for daily transportation if my schedule allows. I want to train to be faster or stronger on a bike if my genetics allow. I want to increase my endurance for distance if my time allows.While there are limitations, and I have to know and respect them, I won't call my self a rider if I don't ride.
Even with my most recent "big adventure" http://myfirst200.blogspot.com/
I was not fully satisfied - you know - "now I can die happy, I've ridden over 200 miles". So what? That distance is accomplished on a regular basis by girls in some places. It is an accomplishment, to be sure, but only a small one. There are other hills to be climbed. And THOSE hills are the ones which draw me. Williams Hill should be a regular training climb, not a twice a year adventure.
But that thinking, places me in the minority - actually, statistically speaking, it places me alone. Again. Naturally.