Tailwind

“Dreams are necessary to life.”

- Anais Nin

I woke up this morning, stepped outside to pick up the NYT and felt a brisk wind. The kind that can break your will to go hard solo on a bike if you let it. Headwind for 60 miles up the coast of San Diego, across Camp Pendleton and into the southern tip of Orange County. Awesome wind. Relentless. Whipping flags. Pushing people. Blowing sand in the face of every skinny wimp (all two) on the beach.

Want to know the best thing about that testy, endless effing wind?

At the turnaround point of my ride in San Clemente, it suddenly became my best friend. A massive tailwind, shoving a refueled and replenished me like crazed tifosi up a mountain. For most of the next 55 miles. Diesel big-ring kind of wind. A dream come true. Even with pretty blasted legs. I dreamed that headwind would not relent, so I could ride it as a tailwind. Dreams are necessary to life. They fuel the inner fire. Help move you forward.

Which brings me back to headwinds. They build character. They’re like long stout climbs in the mountains experienced for the first time. You’re not quite sure when the gradient is going to pitch beyond 10%, so when it does, you must tell yourself it’s no worse than 7%. Really. What’s 3% more? Pedal on. Breath deep. Pedal strong. Find your rhythm. Push away fear, doubt and uncertainty. Go skyward so you can taste the ultimate reward: a slicing, carving, sweet descent with views.

The analogy is fresh in my mind because on Saturday I went almost as hard as I could up Palomar Mountain. 11 miles. 4,200 of elevation gain. Live your dreams. Even the little ones. They are necessary to life and the reason why a nasty headwind that became a dream of a tailwind is the Sunday night Crave.

Doing 27 mph on the flats at mile 70 or so.

Stopping to take in the view on Camp Pendleton. Pre-tailwind.

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