Thursday Thoughts: Glory

Extrinsic rewards:  Shiny crap that other people hand you for doing stuff, jerseys, medals, event cotton shirts, money, plaques, bike parts.

Intrinsic rewards:  The beautiful things that happen inside you when you “done good.”

Our culture tends to be fixated on the big and the immediate.  We see events, and not the process that leads to them.  The bigger the event the better.  We see the Olympian run a record race, and take a place on the podium.  What we don’t see are the hours of practice and training.  We do not see the relationships that are affected by the dedication.  We don’t see the rigid discipline that is required.  We see only the symbol of that commitment.  We see the extrinsic event.

There are many among us who train for competition.  Some are motivated solely by that whole event/reward thing.  They want the big trophy that says,  “On this day, in this race, I was the fastest/best/strongest!”

Sometimes the competition is a bit less formal.  It’s the town line sprint in the weekly “fake race” ride.  The aspirant works like a demon, first to hang on to the group, then to be near the front, and finally to be in position to make the run for it.  If all goes well, just maybe, that rider will manage, through timing, skill, training, and luck, to be the one to win the end of the ride sprint.

For some, that is enough.  Winning the town line sprint is equivalent to winning the ride.  Let’s set aside for the moment the fact that the ride is not an organized race, nor is it a race in any acceptable fashion.  There are still those to whom the idea of “winning” it is important.  Nobody hands out trophies for this kind of thing.  There are no yellow jerseys for winning a “stage” in the weekly club ride.  But bragging rights are a powerful incentive for some.  The event will be rehashed in countless “bench racing” sessions during the dark months of Winters yet to come.

Note:  There is little difference between a “bench race,” a “sea story,” and a “Fairy Tale.”  Fairy Tales start with, “Once upon a time.”  Sea Stories start with,  “Honest man, this really happened!”  Bench Races start with,  “It was one of the group rides last year, and (Big Name) was there.  He’s this really fast guy?”  After the beginning, all three of these forms of fiction tend to be very similar.  One common element is a complete lack of verifiability.

There is another type of event, resulting from the process of riding and training on a bike.  It’s usually (but not always) small in overall stature.  A given rider is standing to the side in the group, or comes into the bike shop.  He or she says something quiet…

“I got caught out in that wicked storm yesterday, and I worked my home.  It was tough, but I did it.  I didn’t call for help.”

“I just rode up the (such and such) hill, all the way, without stopping.”

“I had the best ride, I think I’ve ever had this morning.  Everything felt right and good.  I was all alone, but it was great.”

“I finally managed to do a trackstand for a few seconds.”

“I rode to work in rush hour traffic, and for once it was like magic.  I had it all under control.”

“I took (small name) out on a nice ride.  He/She’s new to it, and I showed them the way around that really nice loop.”

“I taught my son/daughter to ride.”

I went to the grocery store on my bike.”

Can you see it?  There’s a little bit of it shining around each of these folks.  You can see it around them, and a glint of it in their eyes.  It’s glory.  It’s all internal.  It’s about the best there is.