Lessons From Belgium
Perhaps the most philosophical cat ever to grace the Sunday paper once said, “The problem with the future is that it keeps turning into the present.” I truly understand Hobbes’ sentiment after spending three weeks in Belgium in a haze of lactic acid and exhaustion. Sometimes everyone is guilty of thinking about what lies about ahead instead of what one is doing at the moment.
As I landed in Brussels, I thought about how I would be back in the terminal in twenty days. At the onset of the trip, that seemed like a long time. In a jet-lagged stupor, I met with my teammates for the first time in an overpriced coffee shop. The car ride to the USA Cycling house, crammed in a van with five other racers, plus a coach, dragged on. Our meandering ride through town and on the canal path seemed slow. Back at the house, dinner was a relief because it signaled the end of our premier in Belgium. The first day, longing for sleep, seemed to stretch on like a rubber band that refuses to break before we were allowed to rest our heads in our bunk beds.
Seemingly before we knew it, my new roommates and I were at our first race. As much as the coaches had tried to impress upon us tactics, concerns, and theories, the closest thing I can compare Belgian racing is being lifted from a kiddie pool and thrown into a raging river. No one can tell you how to accelerate up a sidewalk, duck under signs, or keep your wrists relaxed over cobblestones. It was an exhilarating experience and I had never realized an hour and forty minutes could pass so quickly. The paradoxical part of the racing is that during the race, I counted down the laps, anxious to be through with the pain, but as soon as I crossed the finish line I wanted to start again. Once our team had one race beneath our cycling shoes, they began to pass so quickly it was hard to tell one from another.
Aside from racing, the other part of living in Izegem, Belgium one has to embrace is resting. It is far too easy to lie on one’s bunk and worry about one’s next race or what one will do when he returns home. I had to learn how to relax for a days at a time. I have a restless personality and just lying down and waiting is hard for me. One of the coaches told me he makes it a challenge for himself to see how long he can lie down without moving at all. Trying to heed his advice, I read three books lying in bed, absorbing myself in each one so I would not have to worry about the awaiting trials. Becoming a vegetable for a day may seem like something to avoid, but there is something Zen-like in enjoying doing nothing for hours without any concern for the future.
Though these were important lessons to learn, I realize now that I am back in the United States that I also have to look to the future to plan how to live the present. I have many goals still to be accomplished and my cycling and academic careers have many years left. My trip to Belgium reminded me that though much of the training I do is with goals months and years away in mind, I should remember to enjoy every day because I will never have that day again.
