saturday

today was a day for growing up, and for getting older - and accepting that these things really do happen to the body and the soul....

i skipped a party and came in early last night, as i had committed to going on a 52 km (32 mile) group bike ride into the country outside PP early, early this morning. my friend, who also owns the best yoga studio in Cambodia, was leading the ride. she and her partner go every weekend. FUN!, i thought to myself. why not get out and make this most of my Saturday with some exercise? its the coolest part of the year... and im in fairly good shape, right? and, Self, remember how much you used to love riding your roadbike long(ish) distances in North Carolina? wheeee! lets do this!

i got up at 6am, geared up and got to the ferry starting point before 7. if i had been fully awake, i might have noticed that the people who started showing up were way more prepared and experienced than i was. many of them already knew each other, because most ride together every Saturday morning. there were, luckily, a lot of new folks too.  we got going and got out of the city pretty easily. we biked to the next city, through fairly manageable traffic, and then over a bridge that heads toward Viet Nam. it wasnt until we got on the first, barely paved, super-dusty road that i started really falling behind. 

the next 5 or so hours was filled with me lagging WAY behind, on a dysfunctional hybrid bike with slipping gears. i have never before been mountain biking, and this was as close to mountain biking with no mountains as one inexperienced biker can get. before long, it was hot as hell.... we were biking through fields and on narrow trails which dropped off precipitously into the Mekong on the lefthand side. there were crossing of tiny wooden bridges and steep drop-offs that the rest of the crew seemed to take in gleeful stride. this particular route included three ferry rides, one of which was much more like a canoe than a ferry. shouldering the bike into the canoe, then squatting as the captain pushed us across the pond.

toward the end of the ride, i was sunburned (more like acquiring a 'sunbeard', as i was wearing large sunglasses and a helmet) and really sucking wind and getting more and more upset with myself. struggling with the reality of my lack of fitness (compared to the other riders), with my embarrassment at not being able to keep up, and with the lack of rest stops.  when youre the last one of the crew showing up at each stop, everyone is already done resting (ie, waiting on YOU), so they are ready to take off again the moment you arrive. 

the two ride leaders are friends of mine, and were most cordial in taking turns to stay waaaaay back with me and ride at my pace. i was so grateful for them. my face was burning with sunburn and with the humiliation of being so far behind. my lips were chapped, and i was huffing in the dust, resenting the lack of paved roads. i begin to resent the curious children on the roadside, shouting 'Hello, Foreigner!', 'I love you!', and 'Goodbye', every few meters or so. i decided, after the 837th 'Hello!' that it wasnt necessary to respond to each child. 

additionally, it turns out that cows get pretty freaked out by fast moving groups of cyclists, so there were two times that i was almost backed over by a panicky cow, bucking around and straining against the rope tethered through its nostrils. 

with only 1 or so km to go, i was thinking that i might not be able to finish. despite my stylish, padded bike shorts, i was feeling less than professional, and more like a person on the verge of a total physical and emotional breakdown. in general, i do not handle humiliation well, and tend to stick to things im good at. this day was such a blow to my ego, especially coming off an emotionally intense week at work. 

that night, i was a puddle of tears and sore pelvic bones. i spent awhile processing and crying with a friend, trying to muddle through what was real and was unrealistic in the myriad letdowns of the personal expectations i unknowingly set for myself. 

coincidentally, Friday was the day that i had chosen my 'word' for 2010. starting last year, at the advice of a beloved therapist and in lieu of a NY resolution, i dedicated myself to choosing a word that would challenge me for the year. 

in 2009, i chose the word 'receive.' 

during that year, i started and maintained a challenging and ultimately very healthy relationship, accepted a new job overseas, and moved to Cambodia, ready to receive whatever blessings came my way. perhaps i am better at receiving now. i feel that i am. 

the day before the ride, i had chosen my focus word for 2010: 'accept.' 

this ride pushed me to my physical and emotional limits, in a way that i did not expect. i had to accept that i am not in as good of shape as i once was. i had to accept that, once i was 26 km out of Phnom Penh on a shitty bike, i had to get myself back by my own volition. i had to accept that doing things that were this challenging was, perhaps, not a complement to my already emotionally and physically strained daily schedule. i also had to accept that others were waiting on me, and that i felt i was letting them down. i had to accept that i felt like a loser.

i am not sorry i went. i am glad that i pushed myself. after all, i finished the ride.

i also will not go again, and i have to accept that thats ok. 

its interesting to watch myself get older, but also to expand and to keep track of how far i have come, even when others are going what seems like much further, and much much faster.

i am so grateful for what i have experienced in the past year. i am grateful for my teachers - people who would never have thought of themselves as such. 

i am grateful that i have been challenged and i am grateful that i have so many people to support me. 

i am grateful that i still have a sense of humor. 

i am grateful that you are reading this, and bearing witness to my acceptance.

i hope such challenges and awareness and acceptance for you all in this new year!

may 2010 be a year of growth and change - and acceptance - for us all.