By the Numbers.

2016:
  • Between actual road miles and trainer miles, I rode 8,868 miles. I used to break them out, but now I'm just too lazy. If I had to guess, I'd say about 6,000 of them were on the road.
  • I sat in the saddle for just under 500 hours.
  • If I do the maffs, that would make my average speed just under 18 MPH.
  • I burned roughly five or six calories, and consumed... a googolplex? That sounds about right. I've never been all that disciplined in keeping track for an extended period.
  • I lost around 15 pounds from the beginning of the year, then found a few of them again. More will probably turn up, like a sock that went missing long enough for you to finally throw away its twin.
I have all sorts of numbers. Training stress scores and intensity factors. Peak power levels at various durations. Scores of the 2016 Clemson-OSU bowl game. The number to the nearest Papa Johns.
  
Numbers nobody really cares about, except maybe that last one. That one might come in handy when the wife has had a long day and the kids are hungry.
  
I used to keep track all of that stuff, instead of viewing it as marginally-interesting trivia.
  
Now I realize that once the last race of the season is over, it doesn't matter quite as much. The stuff that matters is whatever the next goal is and how I'm going to get there. I know from experience you can have your best year ever one year and your worst the next. I's not some linear progression. Sometimes you get sick. Sometimes you get injured. Sometimes life happens. Past performance is no guarantee of future success.
  
What does matter is that I had fun. Did I have so much fun that I was toeing the line of overindulgence, to the point where any more would make the fun less so? That's where I want to be at the end- still wanting more but not regretting a whole lot of missed opportunities.
  
2016 was a year where I missed out here or there through injury or that life thing, but overall I had fun. My tires rolled down some new roads. I rode with some new people. I bought more carbon. I dabbled in titanium. I set new personal records. I got crushed by superior riders.
  
My goal isn't to be at the top of the heap, but rather to be close enough to see it. Sometimes it may take the Hubble, but I'd like to have that carrot out there. Something to strive for. Sure, it's nice to be on the top step once in a (great, great) while, but too much of that sort of thing gets old. I don't want cycling to get old.
  
Here's hoping 2017 gives me something to look up to.
  
Just not too high.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sprint Intervals.

Nostalgia.

Uniform Suckiness.