Wholistic Fitness

“Steve was, without a doubt, the Saving, Super Strong Grace of our Team today.”
– Jeremy,
Red Rock Racers
after the completion of the Perkinsville Road Race yesterday.

Hey WF Sangha!
i want to thank first of all, Temple Manager and my Beloved Partner Ananda for making yesterday one of the most amazing days, let alone ‘birthdays’ i have ever had…it was a Miracle Day.

then i want to thank you, the readers of DL…so many beautiful Birthday wishes and cheers for your ol’ coache.

i fought hard yesterday.
you kept my spirit Willing.
45 mph gusts of wind at the Start had all the racers nervous. dangerous conditions when you are about ready to ride handlebar to handlebar at speeds of 35 mph or more.
“Dude, isn’t this fucking wind the shits?” one racer asked me.
“Wind? Shit, this ain’t wind,” i shouted to him above the gale force air, “i raced for years in New Mexico…this shit ain’t nothing but a pleasant breeze to me!”

i mean shit, this guy is an outdoor athlete.
if you choose the outdoor sports as your Yoga, then, you gotta learn to deal with Brother Wind.
maybe he should trade his bike in for a dartboard or perhaps some bowling shoes. not much wind in those ‘sports.’
but this is bike racing, baby.

Rule #1; Stay focused on YOU…don’t let the negative and fragile psyche of other racers put a dent into your Noble Mindset on the Start Line.

However, out on the course, Brother Wind took it’s toll on all of us…it blew more than our bikes, it blew every ounce of moisture from our lungs and cells.
dehydration on the long, 14-mile uphill climb toward the finish was just popping the racers off the splintered and fractured peleton like so many dandelion seeds…”gone with the wind.”

i knew that this Stage would more than likely be a race of attrition, and at the Halfway Point, the turn-around where we began the Ascent…i had to let about 75% of the peleton ride away from me. i could not keep up if i wanted.

i had to ride within myself and trust in my Nutrition and WF Practices that i would gain strength and speed as the climb wore on.

i did.

it was an hour and fifteen minutes of intense meditation for me as i kept by heart rate pegged and danced upon as big a gear as possible. i started attacking the racers in front of me one by one…remembering my years of Jump Squat as i pedaled up to the back tire of a racer in front of me, and then JUMPED his ass like a firecracker going off. this tactic, though hard, is highly demoralizing to a tired racer…they simply don’t want to JUMP to get onto your tire…they do not do enough Jump Squats, i suppose. “Take that motherfucker,” i sometimes said to myself to boost my confidence as i surged past yet another racer, “you shoulda read my books instead of all those cycling magazines, mofo.”

eventually, as i climbed my way from nearly last place through the combusted remnants of the peleton (the results are not in yet) i picked up both of my younger RRR Teammates who had just bonked big time. i could have easily accelerated past them both and gone on toward a better finish for myself, yet that is not my Mission for this day…my Goal, as a new comer on this Team, is to prove myself helpful for the Team. so i paced each of these boys toward the finish…other racers would attempt to piggy-back on our ‘RRR Train’ yet, i would tell my boys that i was going jump this bastard so hold my wheel..and jump i did..
again and again and endlessly it seemed again…

about 5 miles from the finish i could not drop this rather strong-legged racer from another team. he was killing my teammates one by one. he’d sit in on our paceline for a while without working, then attack us. motherfucker. i hate that shit. he kept attacking our train, so eventually, i had to go one on one with this mofo, leaving my teammates behind…

then he dropped me.

i regrouped with Ian from my team by slow pedaling for a while and then, as he caught up, we rekindled our CHI and hammered back up to this guy right before the last climb.
i set Ian up to attack, led him out, blocked the competitor…yet Ian had no juice left. so it was up to me to attack this guy on the final climb…
i held his wheel until the steepest belly of the climb, the hardest part, then, i thought about you, the DL Sangha, and said to myself,
“Be Brave, ilg.”

and launched with all the power of the years of 1:00 Staccato Technique Jump Squats i could muster. i plastered my Heart Rate into the Death Zone for a good 45 seconds.

when i looked under my arm, i had a 15 second gap over that bastard. he was pissed, i could tell by the anger in his pedal strokes…it was 3 kilometers to the finish…
head down,
i called upon my Death Valley,Furnace Creek mojo and told myself that there is no way in Gods Good World that that kid is gonna catch me this close to the finish…Time Trial position, Mula Bandha, Bhastrika Blows, i pulled out every trick in the book to sell myself…2 kilometers…i see the 1 kilometer to Finish sign…
all breath
“emptiness is form,
form is emptiness.”
this is
Yoga
in this Empty Painful Pranful moment…
this
is High Performance Yoga�, baby!

at 50 meters from the Finish i caught him opening up his Sprint…he was 5 seconds in back of me…

i stood up on the pedals, attacked his attack and sizzled past the finish line two bike lengths in front of him.

chalk one up for the Elder Tribe.

on this day, i finished second on our team.
on this, i helped my Team toward a much higher standing than if Steve Ilg was not on it.
that was my Mission.
i had Served,
Nobly.

today…

Day Two…oooof.
loose bowels.
wheezing chest.
coughing.
spittin’ phlegm.
gotta race a crit in three hours.
God it’s go(o)d to be back racing bikes!

i will update you asap…
gotta go do my Morning Rituals and get ready for the crit.

oh, my Intent for the crit while i feel like shit right now?

what else do you expect from a Warrior?
what do you expect from YOURSELF today?

let’s Dance, pardner…

let’s Dance this Dance.

together,

coach ilg