A Lesson in Man-Strength

Saturday I had the most unbelievably bad attitude. It’s not uncommon that people say I’m “an all or nothing kinda guy” or use the phrase “go big or go home” to describe me, and I would even self ascribe these kinds of ideas and take pride in them. Apparently, having a bad attitude is no different. I can’t just be mildly annoyed with someone or a little frustrated at the situation. No. I commit 100% to reveling in the situation, carrying on a campaign of shock and awe about whatever it is that irks me. It started Saturday morning when the sun went behind the clouds, the wind picked up and blew in some god-forsaken cold weather front, just as I was leaving for a ride. Two blocks into the ride I had to turn homeward for more apparel. I feel like I can handle most things in life. On the list of things I cant? Sunless skies, cold, hunger and being sleepy. This morning every single one of these things collided in a maelstrom of frigid drear, caloric deficit and fatigue.

Once I had decided that Saturday, April 24, was in fact the worst day in the life of Ryan Alexander Payne (something I repeated several times throughout the ride), there was no going back. I was angry we had to wait to pick someone up. I was angry we were climbing the hills out of order. I was angry that roads in Montana haven’t been improved in the last 100 years. I was angry that one person on the ride went home to take clothes off because he was “hot” while I was freezing. I was angry someone went home to sleep instead of riding, despite the fact that his last workout would put most elite athletes into some kind of damned cardiac arrest. I was annoyed at what seemed like an excessive amount of sniffling and spitting and snot rockets from my companions. I was angry my coach was on the ride and he would know if I went home (see last post for irony)… and then things got bad. I posses a certain sensitivity to audible inputs. My sister-in-law, Julie, often says I need “life earplugs” to wear throughout the day to block sounds which annoy me like whistling or people who chew with their mouths open or heavy breathers. During the first climb we encountered a particularly audible bird with a loud and caustic call which sent me straight over the edge. In short, I had completely imploded in a disaster of narcissistic irrationality.

I managed to make it 3 hours before I called it a day and headed home. Two friends continued on to climb another hill. As I thawed out in long hot shower afterwards I reflected on the ride and realized two things. 1) How ungrateful I was to be with friends on a ride, riding in such awesome place and healthy enough to climb those hills. 2) I missed out on a more riding and climbing because I was pouting about a slight temperature decline and caloric deficit.

This is how Montana endows athletes with man-strength. Next time I will do better. Thanks to Jeff for rewarding my efforts with cheese fries!