Write It Down
"In the southbound lane of the SGRT, near the Nature Center, a little bird lay in perfect, peaceful repose. No larger than half my closed fist, I am guessing it was a tit-mouse. Fluffy gray feathers ruffled in the breeze. What brought it to this end?"
"I was all set to note something about the long, shapely legs powering a woman up Mt. Baldy Road this morning as the days incident. Then I decided that the sight of commuters all bundled up - wool jackets, scarves, gloves - on this first truly cold day of the season would be more fitting."
"A minefield of slick, hard acorns I weave my way through without slowing. Leaves plastered to the pavement in their red, orange, and yellow glory. The sight of silver spray cast forward from rapidly spinning front wheel, and the feel of spray on my legs from the rear. Finally. Real. Rain."
For too long now my race/train log entries have been mostly devoid of any character, they have become cut and (all too) dry. Simple, basic facts -stats of the day, where I rode, how I felt, how I rode. It is a drawback when most of the miles come during solo spins. There are just no opportunities to make cracks about Joe, rag on the riding ability of Jim, or compliment the fluidity of Jane. If I could do a group ride everyday it might be different, but that is wishful thinking, not reality.
"I was all set to note something about the long, shapely legs powering a woman up Mt. Baldy Road this morning as the days incident. Then I decided that the sight of commuters all bundled up - wool jackets, scarves, gloves - on this first truly cold day of the season would be more fitting."
"A minefield of slick, hard acorns I weave my way through without slowing. Leaves plastered to the pavement in their red, orange, and yellow glory. The sight of silver spray cast forward from rapidly spinning front wheel, and the feel of spray on my legs from the rear. Finally. Real. Rain."
For too long now my race/train log entries have been mostly devoid of any character, they have become cut and (all too) dry. Simple, basic facts -stats of the day, where I rode, how I felt, how I rode. It is a drawback when most of the miles come during solo spins. There are just no opportunities to make cracks about Joe, rag on the riding ability of Jim, or compliment the fluidity of Jane. If I could do a group ride everyday it might be different, but that is wishful thinking, not reality.
So I decided to shake things about, spice up the bland. Taking a cue from those pic-a-day type blogs, with a focus on writing rather than photographing, I decided to incorporate one incident from each ride to distinguish the day, just like those three up above, records of the last three rides. As short as a single sentence, as long as a short paragraph, is all that is necessary. The sentence-a-day, the pic-a-day means of recording incidents are nothing new, and trace their descent to the ancient Winter Counts of the Lakota, Kiowa and other cultures of the Great Plains. Those Winter Counts would record one memorable event for an entire year in Counts that could go back for generations. Their historic record is invaluable. Is my riding record as significant? Heck no, but it doesn't matter.
Give it a try, right along with the daily stats. It might be a year from now, two years, maybe more, but you will eventually thank me.
Give it a try, right along with the daily stats. It might be a year from now, two years, maybe more, but you will eventually thank me.
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