Writing and RAGBRAI

Regular readers of this piece know that I enjoy bicycling, particularly long-distance bicycling. In the spring and summer months (this year being an exception), I can often be found conquering the roads and trails throughout the region. I love covering the miles, taking in the fresh air, maintaining a heart rate higher than my cholesterol reading, and zooming along on my trusty Schwinn. And like any distance cyclist, I have had an interest in RAGBRAI.

My trusty Schwinn

For the uninitiated, RAGBRAI is a ride held by the Des Moines Register, going by the full name of  Register's Annual Great Bicycle Ride Across Iowa (RAGBRAI). It is a nearly 500-mile, week-long journey across a state which, much to my surprise, is not entirely a flat, empty prairie full of corn. This grand ride is one of the longest continuous ones in the country, and you will get to go with approximately 60,000 of your compatriots-in-cyclingon this grand travel. RAGBRAI has always drawn my attention because of its epic length, its challenge to the human physique, and the skill required to endure such a long ride. And yes, there's a part of me that would love to take this grand trek throughout the Midwest.

Then I face the simple fact: I would die. The ride would kill me. Literally kill me.

Why do I go on praising RAGBRAI just to shoot myself down and walk away from the challenge? Simple: I know what my training has built me for. Now, I openly admit that if I was able to dedicate myself to such distance training, get a bike better suited for distance than my trusty Schwinn, and apply discipline to other parts of my life (health, diet, physique), RAGBRAI would be very doable, and indeed enjoyable. However, that's not what I've trained for. My cycling style is slower, more methodical, and used primarily as a physical meditation on the world at 15 miles per hour. The distance happens, yes. Howevber, seven consecutive days of rides averiging almost 70 miles a shot would take their toll. I would die, and that would be the end of it. Mission unaccomplished.

 Why am I going on about this? Because I think about the same trek I have taken with writing. Without question, I wanted to write a book for many years, but the thought of it was freaking impossible. Four-hundred pages of continuous storytelling, complete with a satisfying character hourney, complete story arcs and subplots, and constant reader interest? Never gonna happen. However, I realized back then that, just like RAGBRAI, that writing journey was not possible because I hadn't trained for it. My writing was research-based, and my creative muscles were rather stunted. So, instead of disposing of the dream of writing a book, I trained for it. I worked hard, learned my lessons, wrote constantly, practiced my voice, and developed the tools necessary to write a complete novel. Then I went off and did the unthinkable: I wrote that book (and another, thank you). I just needed the training.

RAGBRAI ends tomorrow in case you want to zip over to Iowa to congratulate the finishers (it's non-competitive - the only goal is to finish). You can look at the cyclists crossing the line and taking in a little amazement at their feat. Feel free to appreciate what it took for them to do this. And then, after the last rider crosses the line, fingure out what your own RAGBRAI is, and start training for it.