I was struck this morning by the bumper-sticker (or in this case, desktop calendar) philosophy penned by author William Feather: Success seems to be largely a matter of hanging on after others have let go.  What caught my attention was not the observation in and of itself, rather the obviousness of it, yet how often we ignore it.

Almost all of us can get up and sprint when the need or desire arises, but how many quit when that initial burst of effort is spent?  The “reasons” you confabulate to justify a half-assed effort – who are they for?  You know when you’re throwing in the proverbial towel so why do we feed ourselves half-truths and flimsy excuses?

The flags were straining their poles this afternoon as the south wind whipped them and everything else with a furious 50km/h gale.  I watched them with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation that seemed misplaced.  It wasn’t.  Before the afternoon was over, the direction had changed.  While it will appear that I’m about to complain – because I am – I’m grateful that the new direction was a cross-wind and not a headwind.

That does not discount it’s effect however – a crosswind still messes with the effort required, especially one howling like a freight train.  Earlier this year, I’d asked Guru Thomas about riding in high winds, looking for an excuse to cut and run.  His answer was simple – Ride it like a hill!  And enjoy the sunshine! I’ve taken that advice to heart this season and while I never look forward to a stiff headwind (or crosswind), I’ve managed to ride irrespective of the wind conditions.

This afternoon was no different as I headed home.  My plans for a 30km ride on the way home were imperiled as I made my first due-west leg and the wind made its full force apparent.  Still, going north wasn’t too bad – legs felt good, lungs felt good, heart monitor was reading higher than I felt like I was working but there you go, that’s why we create these little gadgets isn’t it.

I jumped on the canal trail heading north with a rider out of downtown 20 meters behind me.  Dutifully playing the part of the rabbit, I set to work running away though not with any great speed I admit.  Slowly he fell further and further behind until I could no longer catch sight of him in my mirror.  I aimed for home on the short route, pedaling down 4th/Edmonton Trail towards the short, sharp climb past the bus (and apparently garbage truck) traps, debating the next turn – no need to get home right now, lots of time for a ride, but this wind sucks…I don’t owe anyone a longer ride, yes you do - to you, nobody would call me on it if I went home, except me.  I knew that, just like the days I chose to drive instead of ride because it might rain, I’d be disappointed with my effort if I cut now and went home.

I jumped back on the path and continued heading north at a crosswind-reduced pace and pondered my route.  2nd thoughts overwhelmed me and the Rescue Bike insticntively headed for the exit on 64th. Once more I kicked myself and turned around to get head back to the canal path, stopping just long enough to catch site of the wolf going by on his journey.  Now I had a route – wherever he’s headed – and some inspiration.  I set about closing the distance as we neared the end of north-bound pathway.

I caught him as we entered Nose Creek park but held off passing him as I debated the likelihood of getting re-passed on the little climb to the ridge.  When I couldn’t bear it any longer, I pulled and passed him with an unexpected (to me) burst of energy and speed, quickly opening up a gap between us.  Slowing down I tried to recover some before tackling the short into-the-wind climb.  As is its way, it dragged me to the bottom of the middle ring, heart rate climbing towards redline as I huffed and puffed my way up while trying to hold my position as the rabbit.  Today there was a little trick at the top – a full-on, unbuffered, no-shelter headwind pounding away at my ego.  I thought for sure I’d be caught and re-passed as I hobbled along barely making any distance.  He was there all right, but suffering as badly as me, the gap between us slowly, very slowly growing in my favour.

There comes a point when choosing to ride into a 50km/h headwind while climbing for pleasure seems like little more than unnecessary, self-inflicted torture.  I peeled off at Centre street and headed south for home, the long climb from the golf course to the Co-op waiting for me – at least we were back to a crosswind.  I would have preferred to make the big loop around and done some more climbing but the thought of battling it out with the headwind for another hour took all the fun out of it.  I would not be enjoying the sunshine.

I glanced in my mirror a last time as I left the park pathway and caught a final glimpse of my pursuer, soldiering on into the headwind that had finally dissuaded me.  Success comes to those who hang on after the others let go.