I am hungry! Does anyone else have difficulty balancing deprivation against necessity? I have determined over the last few years that I am basically a slave to my desires. My only defense against temptation has been to remove myself from the situation. I am slowly trying to move away from the animal, to the intelluctual. I admire those people who can be confronted with temptation, understand why they are tempted, and deny themselves that which some part of them wants. I understand those that live by primitive urges, but I do not want to be one of them. Maybe there is enlightenment in that. The self-awareness manifests itself in other ways as well. I am more aware of the people around me. For example, I don't shout profanities at drivers who cut me off (although I once did). A thirty-second window into their life certainly does not grant me the right to pass judgement on them. I have no idea what their life is like. As Plato said, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."

Back to hunger and more generally, desire. I know that hunger is a base urge that does not understand the concept of Fourth Meal, high fructose corn syrup, or the Cheesecake Factory's desire to serve four portions to a single person. And when I'm riding none of this is a problem. I am pure. I cannot be tempted. The world is a much simpler place on a bike. I am the person who laments "things were better in the old days" unable to face the beautiful complexity of everyday life. Except I also know that life is not really lived if it is lived from behind a locked door. Talk about dichotomy! Perhaps that's why I love racing. Every racer fights a battle of patience versus ATTACK. The clash of intellectual versus animal creates an unpredictability that dominates most races, bowing only to the strongest of riders. Ultimately, that is what drives me on. I want to be the one who conquers the course, the riders, the race. It means I can be hungry and avoid the pizza/ice cream/double cheeseburger. It means I can wake up at 4:00 AM and train sore muscles.

As I finish this entry, it occurs to me that I would not have been capable of writing the previous two paragraphs as recently as last Thursday. The wonder of it all...

Who put that crab there?

Motivation is a funny thing. It survives all summer on nothing more than a ghost of a chance to place, to win. Then winter rolls around and motivation disappears...poof...gone. I eat. I play Everquest. I forget that I have a bike bolted to a trainer in the basement. And then last Friday happens.

In one instant I went from "I want a cheeseburger" to "I do NOT want a cheeseburger, and can I go ride NOW."

Friday morning I checked the racing calendar. Posted was the USCF Road Race Championships. It just so happens it is on the same course as last year, but it is four months earlier than last year. Last year I got dropped on the hill. And there were three laps, so I got dropped three times (yeah, I caught back on two of the three times). Later that day and the next day/week/month I mulled over my 15th place finish. I vowed to be lighter and more powerful.

I also noticed that the first race of the year was Saturday, the very next day. Good news comes in two's, I guess. You can quibble over a race being good news. It was cold, about 20 degrees with wind chill. It was a race though, and suddenly there it was.

Hello, Mo! Nice to see you again!