The almighty , relentless , endless , sacred track . The track , the whole track and nothing but the track . It becomes my sun and my moon . My tormentor and my liberator . It is that pristine drug high I chase . It gives and it takes . It makes and it breaks . All other thoughts disappear completely , as I engage in extreme physical meditation with the track .
It ’ s a shock when I realise several days have passed and I ’ ve not had one conscious thought . In this respect - I suppose it is a mental holiday - and it ’ s glorious .
Of course , I do check my emails and see things happening at work , but in full truth , after twelve hours of riding in a day ; I couldn ’ t give a shit . In full truth , I hardly give a shit at the best of times . Over these two weeks , however , I can shamelessly not care about anything except keeping my bike going and staying in this race .
It ’ s not about the rankings , as much as they generate daily discussion , it ’ s about keeping oneself moving and reaching for a cold beer in the bivouac every night . That ’ s it , nothing more , nothing less . However , this simple sounding feat requires relentless focus and determination . The more of these events I do , the more I come to realise that the only person you ever really race is yourself . Can I do this ? I must prove to myself that I can .
The stunning scenery flies by , as do the charming mountain villages and ( mostly ) smiling locals , but in all honesty , it ’ s a blur and I can never remember
TRAVERSE TRAV- 118