It's time to see if all of the training I've done throughout winter and early spring will pay off. Time to see if I have seemingly weathered another year without growing older; or if my training efforts to cheat the clock of aging have been in vain. That time will come on April 22, 2007 at the Paris to Ancaster Enduro near Hamilton Ontario, Canada. I pre-registered on-line last Friday night... no backing out now. Although last year was my first participation in this specific race, it has a 14 year history and currently starts one of the largest fields of racers of any bicycle race in Canada. A race whose beginning took its inspiration from one of the great monuments of world professional cycling, Paris-Roubaix, aka 'Hell Of the North'; Paris to Ancaster offers racers in the North East an opportunity to emulate their heros in an event designed for we mere cycling mortals. Like that famous race in Northern France, our version takes place in the same unpredictable spring weather and on similar types of muddy farm lanes, trails, and roads; albeit 60 km instead of the inhuman 259 km covered in the 105th, 2007 edition across the big pond. That's me pictured above in last year's race, April 9, 2006. I'm the rider in orange on the front of that little group, #269. My result was more than I could have hoped, given the size of the starting field; 33rd of 1096 finishers, 4th of 283 in the 40-49 age grouping.I always wonder if other bike racers experience the same anxiety as do I at the first race of the year. You'd think that after 8 years of competition in well over 100 organized events and as many training races I'd be over it; and for the most part once the first few big races of the season are out of the way I am. The fear I have is not of the race itself; certain pain, potential injury, inclement weather, possible humiliation. My fear is that I will fail myself. That at some point in the race I will tell myself that finishing on the podium or high-up doesn't really matter, and stop fighting. Fear that a loss of will to hold on to the wheel in front of me will somehow diminish my passion for life and my drive for success in other important endeavors. Fear that a poor performance is an indication of age and that I will finally have to accept that getting older (almost 45 years this season) means that I can no longer be competitive with younger athletes. Fear that if I can no longer win or do well in races, I may no longer be motivated enough by the fun, camaraderie, and recreation alone to continue to participate in the sport that I have chosen to define who I am and that makes my life so rich. Paradoxically these fears are some of the very things that drive me to train, race, and thus continue to be competitive year after year; that basically ensure that none of these fears become reality. So bring it on Paris-Ancaster. You want some of this?
