Rattling disparate voices about riding with my partner

At a certain point years ago, I asked the Universe for a riding partner. I was cycling longer distances, faster, and I wanted a compatible partner for companionship, even as I enjoyed riding on my own. I rode with group that met weekly at a ridiculous time of morning, to avoid traffic and benefit family schedules for later in the day.

Someone riding with an adjacent group that also met at this silly early time eventually became my partner, romantically and in riding. We live together now. Yesterday when we talked about what we could do today, he hoped we could ride a long gravel route. I also wanted to do something longer than 30-50 miles we had been doing for months now, it was time for a bigger chunk.

Throughout the day, we had conversations about which route to do, pros and cons. Initially, I thought we would ride out to the Hero Gravel course near Stillwater, but later, my partner said he didn't like the traffic, the narrowness of the roads, more pavement than gravel, etc. He wanted me to consider the Ragnorak course near Red Wing, MN, something we have each planned to do, yet haven't. I said going from 45 paved miles with climbing to 100+ miles of gravel and lots of climbing sounded like too much for me at this point, but maybe if we did something shorter now, we could build to doing that soon. We both like the Dickie Scramble route out of Elgin, MN, which is a great climbing route but only 86 miles. I pointed out that driving there and back would take extra time and mental drain for me (the licensed driver between us two) but it seemed doable. By the time we'd eaten dinner and settled down for some screen time, we still didn't have a consensus or a plan and conversation was stilted. Why?

Over three days of riding during humid 80-85 degrees this week, I'd worked up a couple points of irritation in my seat area. Being "saddle sore" is mentally stressful for me, as I will my body to heal faster, while wracking my brain about where I went wrong, when I pushed too much and what I could have done to avoid this situation. So much problem solving in order to avoid feeling right where I am. Ready and wanting to ride, to take on some kind of challenge but realizing that the skin will heal faster, sooner, if I can avoid exacerbating the breakouts. 

So that's the logical side of things. What about how I'm feeling? As he ate a big meal this morning, I asked if he was going to ride, and he replied cheerily, Yep! 

I did yoga and identified almost right away that I was resentful, my partner was taking care of himself and getting ready. I was working up some stories in my head about what the feelings I was experiencing could mean. He was mean! He was greedy and just wanted to bike, not to be with me! I vowed that when I was ready to ride again, it wouldn't be with him! I would find a route I could do on my own. 

I had already reached out to a few friends earlier in the hour, asking if they had time for a walk with me. I was seemingly desperate for company, or something to do, making myself strong and able. I was imagining a hike for hours, a way to test endurance without putting pressure on my healing skin. All this hanging onto bitter stories to avoid letting go, being with unscheduled time, my general lack of ambition or inspiration.

After yoga, I went for a walk to the river. I left before him, barely civil enough to say goodbye. Routines and movement keep me grounded when I start spinning. I could hear the mental chatter, which included some affirmation that both of us are taking care of ourselves, in a way that was not codependent. That was worth some celebration. But why did I feel left behind? Was it because he stopped communicating when he realized he would just have to go without me? I felt like he was silently blaming me for having bogus skin issues, or for making a big deal out of nothing to avoid working on the bike. I also felt like he was comparing himself to other riding friends who were showing their big efforts on Strava, based on his comments to me as he scrolled through the feed. He had ridden with me the day before, but that day, we had laid low, and I'm guessing he regretted that.

I'm being guided by my therapist lately to consider the arguments I have with others as being more about the voices in my head, wrestling with an idea from two or more sides. One part of me is relentless,  striving to keep a sharp edge or make it sharper, physically and mentally. Another part is worried about my sensitive skin and why I'm prone to breakouts that inhibit my performance (or is it my performance inhibiting my basic skin well being?). 

Can I listen to all these voices within me without exactly deciding who is right, or who should be quiet? Some of my thought-voices seem to get acted out in my assumptions about what my partner is doing or thinking. I can see that I want my partner's validation that I'm doing the right thing by taking care of myself, and that he'll still be ready to ride with me when I'm ready, if that's what I want. I can tell that unless I resolve this tangle within myself, today, I will hold my partner responsible for engaging to problem solve in our relationship, exactly because he has disengaged from what he thinks of as my problem. When I left for the walk to the river, I declared angrily, Yeah, I guess it's on me to figure that out then! 

Since I still haven't, I'll go a little deeper. There's a tension between us about who is physically fitter, or stronger on the bike. It's been going for a couple years now, since we starting riding together as a fledgling couple. When we first became close, I had a minor knee surgery and a bike fitting from The Bicycle Fit Guru, who told me I was dragging my feet back and that I needed to retrain my pedal stroke by pushing straight down from hips. I worked with this abstract concept, as well as physically strengthening and conditioning, in studio training and winter riding. In the second month of our dating, my partner had gone to Solvang, CA, to ride long routes with plenty of climbing each day for a week. He was incredibly strong, if humble, on the bike, and he was methodical in bringing me along for regular rides, even touring early in the season so that I was also strong by spring and the gravel racing season. In that first year together, I took on big challenges because our friends were accustomed to doing so, and they encouraged me to join. I didn't realize that their preparation, which included yoga and other strength training, were actually pretty essential to getting hard work done on the bike. That year, I did not finish (DNF'd) three events that I'd signed up for, a new milestone for me. Granted, I was taking on bigger challenges than my head(space), but I was also facing the dark sides of failure, or having to give up on a challenge because listening to myself was paramount.

Last year, all that changed. I strength trained the previous year and last year, intensifying this practice during the winter. I added yoga and noticed relief of pain, greater mobility. I had weekly or biweekly massages, which made me feel cared for and also brave enough to take on things I wasn't sure I could do well. I finished all the races I started, no DNF's even if there were a couple close calls on time cut-offs. I told myself I understood what I needed to do this year to be even stronger and faster, more comfortable and self-sufficient. I wanted to take on big gravel challenges in April and May, with a long-distance challenge at the end of May, and a long distance gravel challenge in August.

COVID-19 changed all of that. It came along in our consciousness in January 2020 and by March, we had done three 200k routes, one each month, just as news spread across the state that we should be staying at home, containing ourselves. Week by week, the number of cases from social contagion grew, and studies showed we couldn't rely on infection numbers, which didn't include wide testing, so we had to go by trends in death numbers. What to do to protect ourselves and others isn't straightforward. We wear masks when we go into stores, except that I generally don't go into any stores, including gas stations. The mental shrinking I experienced due to containment was so significant, I couldn't be motivated to ride over 25 miles because I feared for lack of water (refills) and bathroom stops. Riding friends were circulating articles about breathing and exercising with other people as high-risk for contagion, and that was truly depressing, as we stopped riding with all friends except each other.

The week before last, we rode with friends. Because we were outside, we were less than six feet apart, which was confusing to me, and I was very conscious of where my breath could be, versus theirs, at any given time. This week, we rode together again and stopped at a brewery, open doors, open patio, plenty of people spaced apart but no masks. I had one, but my face was salty and hot from riding, and it was very uncomfortable. No one else wore one, so I put mine away. And I can't stop wondering about this gray area, the spectrum of feeling so conservative, to welcoming a little bit of social looseness and "return to normal" before COVID-19 anxiety.

So as my partner rides now, he is probably making do with the hydration he brought, and not stopping to use a gas station bathroom. That's one physical difference between us. He feels good when he rides, it tends to make him stronger to ride more and more. I'm different in that I want to ride all the time, but I benefit from rest breaks every other day. When I worked my skin into a tizzy, I had ridden three times in four days. I'm not enabling my inner-perfectionist but I wish I'd given myself a break between the day I noticed a small sore and the next day, when I inflamed it by having a really great 40 mile ride.

And I got a crown on that ride. My partner doesn't talk about the Strava hardware I earn when we both perform similarly, but he is male (huge pool of strong riders) so there are no awards. I ask him what he thinks of that, because I get a lot of recognition and he doesn't. He doesn't say much. It's also a low-grade strain that he used to be fitter, before our relationship. He told me recently that he is 40% as strong as he was 3-4 years ago, and I know he spent way more hours on the bike then. When we joke about this in conversations with our other riding friends, I say I am 40% stronger thanks to being in this relationship. 

In the past, I've been faster, but the last year has shown me that I am capable of endurance over time, able to regain strength the longer I go. In growing my capacity for challenge, I've experienced feeling good. I want that again, more consistently. I know he does, too. In tandem, we have access to it a lot of the time, but we also act out these other voices who spin stories about fear, pain, overwhelm, blame. 

I find it satisfying to imagine building myself up, finding ways to get to higher levels (of endurance, strength, speed, comfort). I know I don't like being thrown into a big situation and "making the best of it," I want to choose my adventures with sound mind. I have one in mind now, "The Day Across MN" in 240 gravel miles. Does possession of sound mind mean less rattling between the disparate voices? Some sonorous chorus? Accepting myself as I am, when I am fidgety and young, wishing I was bold, adult, is a tricky dance, flitty like the butterfly, instincts to stings like a bee.