For me cyclocross racing is over, the colder days are here, the lower light in the sky and now the preparation for next seasons racing season about start. After months and months of training, travel and racing it all comes to a close, it all comes with the seasons changing. To me there is a sigh of relief and a bit of reflection. This year especially the “off the bike” time was really great, 2 weeks of just hanging and not a bicycle insight but at the end of the tunnel is the start of rebuilding for 2011 and a lot of lonely miles. Cycling is a lonely sport.

The lonesome road awaits, the process of layering up, pumping up the tires and taking the first pedal strokes in utter silence with the brain calculating, singing, digesting what might be ahead. A grunt or 2 as the water splashes while preparing bottles, a sigh of disgust at the lost arm warmer and optimistic task for the day which for me often comes up short – “Gonna ride 4 hours today”, but in reality I get 2.5 hours in.

The lonesome road is more lonesome with winter gear on, the tight wraps around the head with senses slightly altered and the sound of breathing enhanced brings us closer to ourselves enhancing the lonesome road. Daydreaming turns hours into minutes, amazingly a 3 hour ride can pass by in blink of the eye when the brain is allowed to wander and creatively pass the time with vivid stories or visions. Fighting the ride, fighting the hours ahead and trying to make it pass longer will only derail the ride and make the anxiety and stress build. Let go. Let go.

The countless hours of riding with only a few waves and hellos to the passers by, could it be classified as torture or therapy? I think it depends, each ride is different and maybe one day is mental torture and the next is therapy. A perfect cycle of self mutilation, I think as a cyclist, training is the time of guilt and reward and riding is the time for torture and therapy. I do look forward to this time of year, it is my time to sort out things, get things right with a lot of positive energy swirling around amongst a bunch of chaotic thoughts and actions.

Loading up the music player is a careful and intimate process carefully planning out the play list. A play list that hopefully will enhance the next few hours of solitude and open road, perhaps a soundtrack to life – or at least life as seen through a set of Oakleys and a cold chill on the forehead. That playlist when dialed in just right is repeated over and over and a detailed connection is made with the songs and artists, almost as if they were there during the time on the lonesome road.

How many times can I ride the same route? I go at it alone on the same road every day and every day I look for variety – it comes with speed, song and thoughts. The road is the same canvas for my brain to explode and expand. I am on the lonesome road, once again.