Debacle

Some say that the definition of insanity is to approach a situation the same way every time and expect a different result. My current definition of insanity is to approach a lifestyle challenge in a manner that I KNOW will result in a less than positive outcome, all the while expecting a more rosy result.

To wit: A few days ago, I participated in the GamJams CompuTrainer Throwdown at Conte's Bike Shop in Bethesda. This was a Saturday morning, typically spent on the road with a group of like minded individuals spending quality time on two wheels. Of course, the snow and, previous to the storms, apathy prevented me from getting in some quality road miles, and I've been limited to some spinning on the trainer indoors, with no real structure or purpose other than trying to keep the legs moving.

When it comes to "preparing" for "competition", that doesn't really cut it.

Without going into any details, my performance was pretty abysmal. It was worse than even I thought it could be, even though I enjoyed (???) the process, the geeky technology, the ability to "virtually" race, though the sucking was a reality. And what's almost comforting is that I knew it going in, and knew that I would be up against some pretty motivated people, whose strength was not so much drawn from their fitness but from their sheer desire, or will, to be uncomfortable for a short time. The guy I raced with beat me by 3 minutes, an almost 10% difference in this short course. Seemed like a nice fellow, certainly new to this aspect of the sport (told me he raced BMX, so not that new), and definitely more energetic. Wish I could've offered him a greater challenge, but I didn't. On the bright side, I got to see James P. and Dave K., who rode in the earlier heat, two of many that I've met over the years due to this shared interest.

The benefits gained from getting to know a few new people with similar interests on a cold Saturday morning far outweighs the insanity that I sometimes put myself through as I spin my hampster wheel. I think that there's a strange logic to extracting acquaintances and cementing friendships out of this strangely sociopathic sport. Kind of like how a heat pump works: it extracts heat out of the cold air to warm the interior of a house via the compression cycle. Whaaaaaa? I don't know either. It just works that way.