Coach Can Wait
Eden Called First
We’re in Ogden, Mo and I, and I’m somewhere in the middle of a three-day social binge. All I want is to get to the other side of it... back home, recovered, free to ride whenever the trail calls. I’ve already done my stretches, studied the maps, and I’m even entertaining the fantasy of slipping out of one of the parties for a quick lap. Bold, maybe. Realistic, probably not. But first, I figure I should check in with my coach.
Coach launches in. HRV holding steady, resting heart rate solid despite the mental load... today calls for moderate Zone 2 cycling, flat terrain, forty-five to sixty minutes. Just enough to help with circulation, mood, and, apparently, constipation. That last one lands with the gravitas it deserves. There are flags: back sensitivity, hydration, fiber. My sleep efficiency is sitting at seventy-five percent, which coach interprets as stress being quietly processed in the background. Stay grounded in the social event, I’m told. Treat it as part of the foundation, not a distraction from it. Good advice, genuinely. I’m nodding along, absorbing it all.
And then my mind just... drifts. Last night’s conversations start replaying. Looping. The kind of mental replay you can’t really turn off, like a podcast you didn’t subscribe to. Coach is still talking. I know this. The words are technically reaching my ears.
Then Mo’s voice cuts right through everything. “Time to drive to Eden.”
Just like that. Back in the room. I have no idea what coach said after that, and honestly, it didn’t matter.
There’s something worth sitting with there. Not every important instruction makes it through. But some voices don’t compete for your attention... they just end the meeting.
May 23rd’s Long Strange Road
A look back at May 23rds spanning two decades, from a relocation freakout in 2001 to a mountain bike race in Idaho to a dentist chair dream in 2012. The date has a habit of catching life mid-stride. Every year, going somewhere.
Read more: https://8i11.vercel.app/story/1idt0n0g