The fourth lap

Mags and I spent the weekend in the desert.  The original plan was to hike down one tributary to the Escalante River, follow the river downstream for a few miles, then hike up another tributary to complete a loop.   Everything went as planned until we got to the river, which was running bank full and bitter cold.  Faced with the prospect of carrying my, and then Mags’s backpack across the waist-deep river umpteen times over the next six miles, I decided we were going to have a more relaxing trip in the desert.  So we spent the next two days exploring all the forks of the box canyon we were in. 

We camped high on a ledge overlooking the canyon floor, savoring the silence that was interrupted only by an occasional canyon wren or coyote howl.  That’s where I read Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel and found what it takes to ride the last laps in a race as strong as I do my first laps.  Well, it didn’t exactly say how to do that in the book, but it did say the first step toward mastery of an art is a physical loosening of the body, continued with a mental and spiritual loosening, making the mind free and agile. 

Herrigel explains the next step with what may be the origin of the phrase “It’s not the arrow, it’s the Indian” that cyclists use to explain why having the lightest, geekiest carbon fiber bike won’t necessarily make you faster.  He says:

For master archers it is a fact of common experience that a good archer can shoot farther with a medium-strong bow than an unspiritual archer with the strongest.

Shooting an arrow farther does not depend on the bow.  Riding a mountain bike faster does not depend on the bike, but on the presence of mind, on the vitality and awareness with which one rides. 

So there you have it.  If I can ride my fourth lap with the same presence of mind that I have in my second lap I won’t fade in the final standings.  Instead of wishing I were done, I just need to maintain my presence of mind for all four laps. 

I know what you’re thinking.  First, a few months ago I said that mountain bike racing was not a Zen thing to do.  I guess I was a wrong about that.  Maybe racing fits into that area where Zen and Confucianism share some similarities.

And second, you’re probably thinking this is just another of my cockamamie schemes to rationalize my way out of a real training program.  To which I say you’re absolutely right.  But it has gotten me this far, so maybe the Buddhists are on to something.