I’ve not been very active on my blog lately. It has to do with cycling. But not as physical as usual. This time it’s about turning cranks in another sense. I’ve begun to help the new swedish digital startup Velonode. A platform for cycling where inspiration and passion is collected, curated, generated and shared between the members. I’m doing a lot of different type of work there, but mainly writing and that’s the reason why I havn’t had any real determination to write here. My days are running out of time, and I’d probably spend more time writing here if I had 36, or even 48 hours instead of 24 per day.
This Velonode thing is really exciting. It’s something that I’ve started to really believe in and I think that it will spread eventually and become something really great. I have full confidence for the people I work for there and it seems as my writing has a good purpose.
I don’t know how much time I’ll have for blogging in a while, but if you want to read words and sentences that I put together, I suggest you go to Velonode and become a member.
I’ve been looking forward to this moment for a year. Yet, when it finally arrives I can’t recall any other moment in my life when my heart has felt this heavy.
I’m not pro material appearently. I can’t stop wondering if guys like Cancellara and Wiggins think it’s this hard to say goodbye to their loved ones.
I’ve been contemplating on this over the last months. For about two years, I’ve had this feeling that I can pinpoint much of my motivation to a specific scenario that only exists in my head right now. It’s a theory that I think of as the perfect breakaway. When thinking about this and my motivation I always get a bit frightened. It can be compared to trying to open
a carbonated drink that you know is shook. Although it hasn’t been shaken just recently, it has been shaken and you know that there’s probably some pressure left. That’s how I feel when I try to pinpoint the feelings that give me this kind of motivation. Unleashing this kind of energy is always terrifying, and the result is difficult to anticipate. It’s with some doubt that I force myself to dig deeper within myself, but on the other hand, I’m sure that I will grow if I force myself to deal with everything that I find difficult.
I think it’s my most powerful strength. I know my every weakness. And every experience that tought me that life isn’t always pink flowers, blue velvet skies and a spectrum of beautiful colours in the sunrise has provided me with greater insight of myself and what I must strive for.
I’ve spoken of the importance of the ability to drain motivation through everything before. It’s something I try to perfect every day.
I visualize myself being in a breakaway. The weather is harsh and the feeling within the trio is calm at the moment, but a tense feeling lies within the air, and within every breath we take. I smell the air as I inhale, and it feels like it’s revealing the future as I pull the air further down my lungs. We take even turns and the pace is high. The race is coming to its end and my legs are already burning. My legs are feeling tired but at the same time awake. I’ve been calculating an attack for minutes already. I think that I have noticed some signs of weakness in my other two opponents, flickering eye movement and some minimal wobbling – but wobbling still. I know that I’ll most likely fail – but I accept the possible outcome – and I decide to fulfill my vision that has clinched onto my mind for so long. When I’ve taken my last turn in the breakaway I decide to go.
With chills all through my body I sacrifice myself to the attack. Every musclefibre in my body will ache. My lungs will implode as the legs catch fire. But simultaneously I remember every minute on the trainer. Every second of training that lead me into this final moment. The most important moment I’ll ever experience within my career.
This is where all the training is put to its final test. I need to push myself to my very limit and hope it’s enough, and with minimum recovery, take up the fight for the stage win. With perfect arch I try to get as low as I possibly can while maintaining my full power output. I crouch on the hoods as I try to accelerate despite feeling sick.
I commit to the suffering and avoid looking back. This time I’m going to run away from everything I never dared before, and this time it’s going to work.
One thought is all that it takes. One good thought, and I’m in the zone longing for an opportunity to place myself in a setting where I know I’ll suffer. Sometimes I question the sanity of this. But I always conclude that this must be a good factor for continuus improvement. It’s not that I long for the pain and suffering itself, more of what I know the pain and suffering will bring eventually. I romantisize the zone so badly at this time of the year, at times it feels like I would do anything just for a short glimpse of it. But at the same time, I know that this is where my strength is withdrawn from during the cold months in Sweden.
To me, the zone is pretty much the peak of things. It’s beautiful. The exhausting rhythm in every movement of a pedal stroke that push me forward in so many different ways really knock me down on my knees and force a humble conciousness. To me it’s moving how a pedal stroke can be so symbolic. In a very concrete way it’s letting you travel ahead. It’s taking you to a place where you’ve never been before and it destroys everything behind you. At the same time the future is placing itself underneath you it’s devouring the past simultaneously. And the exact thing is taking place in an abstract way. At least for me. I know that every hard stroke will take me one stroke closer to my goals of fulfilment and I guess that’s the reason I sometimes wonder if I actually – indirectly – long for the pain and suffering.
I can dream about the times where I am starting to approach the final 5k in a time trial race. I’m already feeling run over. But I know I’ll shift into a bigger gear and pace up. I know that I’ll make it. The last 5k is always so special. It’s where I realize how far I’ve come. Both from what I was and how I used to experience life. I have come so far, yet the journey has just begun. I try to not contemplate too much over this in order to stay focused and determined on the obstacles before me. But sometimes I let myself be proud and inhale everything that has been achieved despite having a constant fear for pride.
I think I finally announce the season of 2013 to be over. I’m starting the training for every challenge that will rise before me and I am eager to take the fight for every one. I’ve felt like an apprentice of the road this year, and even though my experience is shallow I know more of what to expect. I know that the level will be high and that I have five months to prepare and perfect myself both physically and mentally for the challanges of 2014. With great support this year I have taken many steps in the right direction this year and I know that I will be stronger next year.
There’s a constant urge inside me to improve. On every level. Both as a cycling but foremost as a human being. I want to be intelligent, humble, ambitious, reliable, responsible, kind and caring, strong and determined. I want to improve for those that care about me and has granted me perspective of life.
I guess it’s my way of expressing thankfulness to everyone that has helped me this year.
To my family & friends.