So coming off of a week with the flu, then another with a bum tooth, and then a root canal (whine, whine), I’m working my way back into regular riding with as much vigor as I can manage. Last week I did 170 miles (275 km) and felt pretty good about it. I’m looking forward to more along the lines of 200+ miles (320+ km) per week this spring and summer, but I’ve been agonizing over the wind here lately.

Here’s a look at the conditions during yesterday’s ride:

And this is what I’ll be riding in tomorrow evening:

It has sometimes been easy for me to justify putting off a ride to the following day due to extra-windy conditions, but I’m working to put that behind me. Wind, though it is the bane of all things cycling, is a fact of life; especially for those of us who live in a somewhat windy place on earth. There’s simply no getting around it and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna ride my indoor trainer to hide from a 20 mph wind 5 days a week. That is embarrassing silliness.

More important than this, though, is the fact that it’s not as if I have to ride my bike. In actuality I get to ride my bike, which is something of a privilege and one easy to forget. I’m one of those lucky enough to have the good use of my two legs and in good enough health to be able to push myself in profitable and enjoyable exercise. Not all are so lucky!

Some folks would probably trade anything for the chance to get to run or jump or ride into a stiff headwind just once, or just once more! I get to do something others might kill to do and I think I need to remember that fact more often. Especially when I’m worried about how hard it might be riding into the wind on a training ride.

Cycling is fun, but if I were in it just for the fun I’d trade my road bike for a beach cruiser and ride around the neighborhood at 7 mph, waving and chatting with folks working in their yards. No, I’m not in it just for the fun. Like any good masochis… er, cyclist, I’m in it for the suffering, too. I’m in it for the battle, for the struggle, and for the victory at the end of each day’s effort.

There are few things in life sweeter than emerging on the other side of a hard-fought struggle with one’s life intact; knowing that the discomfort, pain, damage, even physical or emotional agony can be added to the progress and gain side of the scale. It’s called winning. Those of us lucky enough to engage in the daily trials and suffering of training know that we’re every day better than the last. That we are winning every day.

And that’s priceless. Just ask someone who used to be able to do so, but now cannot.

I get to ride. When it’s blowing 20 and 30 mph I get to ride my bike into the teeth of that wind. And I’m a fool and an ingrate if I shrink from it. We all are, if we shrink from it. I need to remember this fact and I hope you might, too.