Slow Down A Little? Why?

 Sometimes old memories come swooping in from strange places . . . 

When I was in Chicago I often rode my bike on a repurposed rail line.  I rode West - into the famous Chicago wind for an hour - and then I turned around and came home, the wind at my back.  Every now and then the wind would be particularly fearsome and I'd have a miserable time for the westward bound leg of the trip.  I mentioned to the counselor I was seeing - who had inquired after my well-being - that I was exhausted because of the effort I had to expend trying to make sure that the trip out was an hour.  It was an hour most days so it was going to be an hour every fucking time I was on the trail.  That was my flawed thinking.

"What are you training for?" she asked.  A reasonable question that totally confused me.

"Training for?  I'm not training for anything."

"Well, why don't you slow down a little?" she suggested.

I really had never thought of that.  I was on a two hour bike ride which normally took two hours.  I made no exception for a stiff wind.  The next time the wind was howling I backed off my pace a bit.  It took me a whole ten or fifteen minutes longer to complete my circuit and it was a lot more enjoyable.  Huh.  I honestly had never considered it.  I would have chalked it up to weakness or laziness or some other kind of moral failure to slow down.

I have two speeds - maximum velocity or the car's in the garage with the engine off.  If I can't go really, really fast I'm not interested in going anywhere.