To Climb a Mountain

Cycling can be an emotional experience. Here's what I mean: fatigue; you've gotten up early far too many days in a row, slept in a bed twice in the last 8 weeks, your knees hurt and you're just plain tired. Mind you, this is before the day's riding has even begun. Soreness; knees and legs screaming in unison, brain trying to ignore the fact that you're still on the flats and haven't started climbing the mountain yet. Frustration; to get up the mountain you need to granny gear it, and to do that you need to take all the bags off the bike and manually change the gear. Probably should have had that fixed a while ago. Anger; some at the bike, some at your weak legs, but mainly just to get the job done; like in Dodgeball, "You gotta get angry. You gotta get mean!" Elation; short lived, but hey-- anger is working! Fear; elbows grazing the semis hauling hay up the mountain. That sweet sour smell... what is that? Look down and see a broken animal carcass. That's what happens if your legs give out here; no shoulder and no mercy. Indecision; you've made it up the first grueling six miles, now: take the shorter steeper route? Or the longer, more level route? Follow the wide shoulder up the long and level. Regret; elevation isn't everything. Constant, brutal headwinds try and force you off the road and off the bike. Maybe the other way had no wind? Too late! Resignation; you're going up and over this mountain whether it takes a day or a year. Walk, if you have to, grimace if you must. Fix that flat and move on. Remember the Mountain Goats: "I'm gonna make it/ across this mountain/ if it kills me..." or something to that effect. Besides-- you'll be too busy laughing all the way down the other side to remember any of this.