Getting to the starting line of the TD is almost as hard as the race itself. The past two times it was a struggle of balancing training, working multiple jobs and finding the time for the dog(s). Not to mention, finding time to do something other than working on bikes, riding bikes, building bags for bikes and dreaming eating and shitting bikes, training, maps and gear.
Now life is even more full. Sharing everyday life with someone really brings to life how obsessive and overpowering the TD can be. I never realized how stressful the TD prep was on a relationship, and now I do. Time is an even more rare commodity than ever.
Yet that damn ride is in my head. I want to be out there, I want to dig deep into myself and seek the limits of my abilities, skills and endurance. I want to see all those sunrises and sunsets from the saddle, cruising down the spine of the continent with everything I need strapped to my bicycle. That vision is a very strong one indeed.
Yet right now I am wondering how important that ride really is. Is it more important that the rest of my life? Once upon a time, I thought it was. Now I am in doubt. Life is a series of struggles. Reaching, striving, trying to do more, be a better person, a more complete human. Is the Divide the only route for me to take to push myself? I know it isn’t, I know life will go on if I don’t make it up to Banff. But I also know I will beat myself up all summer if I don’t try harder to make it happen.
There is no easy answer, there is no right answer. There is simply life and how we chose to live it. Damn it is hard sometimes….