June 23, 2004 – Glen Rendall is the defending
national points race champion, and has ridden
with the national team at multiple international
events. As cyclists, we all go through pain…
Here’s what Glen has to say about pushing through
the pain, and riding as hard as you can.

My body and my mind scream to stop. That voice
reminding me that my legs are beginning to hurt,
that my body is tired has me searching for the
over-ride switch – the rhythm, the groove that
hides time, second by second, minute by minute
and carries me towards my goals. Hiding pain,
hiding logic and pushing me on when all I want to
do is stop. Motivation through songs played on my
Discman, magically pulling me through the
hardship. Time disguised – mind playing tricks to
get to were I need to be.

What pushes me? What motivates me? Why do I keep
going? Sometimes it is the repetition in the song
that pushes me on. Note by note my legs turn in a
trance until pushing my limit in an interval the
repetition becomes my albatross, my source of
strength and weakness. No longer focusing in on
the pain, instead hoping the song will end so I
can find some relief. I ride a fine line knowing
that if I kill the bird, I kill the ride.

Solo rides = time to think. A surplus of time
that provides me opportunity to solve the
mysteries of the world – my world that is.
Strangely thinking of solutions and answers to
questions I never thought I had. Like why is it
that the wider the road drivers are given when
confronting a cyclist, the less room they tend to
give you? The exception occurs when something
bigger is approaching in the opposite direction.
Call it Big Game Hunter syndrome if you will. Why
run a cyclist off the road when I can run a truck
into the weeds?

Sometimes my training is pushed on by a sense of
adventure. Over the next rise, or onto the next
town, each new road taking me on a journey that
has me never knowing what I will see. Stories and
experiences unravel the farther I go or the more
I look.

One of my favorite rides in Barcelona takes me
over two mountain passes and around through
different areas. I have done this ride many times
and each time I pass a lone lawn chair sitting on
the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.
Beside it sits a half drank bottle of water
adding colour to the mystery. The ensuing
kilometers of my ride are always spent wondering
about this particularity. Answers solved when,
after seeing the chair six times vacant, the
riddle is solved when the seventh time a blond
haired woman dressed for a night of clubbing sits
patiently in the chair. Cultures and values
opening my eyes in disbelief when I do a double
take as she steps into a car and disappears a
few dollars richer.

There are times when I am fueled by a desire to
see what I can do. The need to push my limits is
what drives me. Watts added or speed pushed –
knowing that a sense of accomplishment awaits me
if I succeed.

Why do I do the things I do? I am a track racer
but I find myself climbing mountains. Each ride
in Barcelona takes me over 12K of climbs at the
very minimum but strangely, out of context, I
find myself smiling. My reward being the downhill
and the view from the top.

One might wonder what drives me on and pushes me
as obstacles and barriers rise in my path to
challenge physical and mental limits.

Strange things push thoughts through my mind.
Sending time to another dimension, enabling me to
train. Hours on the road or hours on the
Computrainer roll past. I sit and wonder how I
can train for three hours on a Computrainer. What
motivates me? What am I thinking? Usually it’s
nothing. Rhythm, numbers and thoughts are all
smeared together. I live my life by the ¼ hour –
15 minutes at a time. Telling myself that if I
can do one more minute, I can do 15 minutes.

But try and ride minute my minute and I am
doomed. One minute feels like 10, 10 feel like 60
and I suddenly can think of everything and
anything that I would rather be doing. If I
recount every minute of the ride then it is
destine to be short. But 15 by 15, the hours pass
magically until something happens.

The moment of silence: The quite mind. A moment
when there are no sounds except for my breathing
and my legs pumping. I can ride by vistas of
magnificent proportions and miss them entirely.
My single minded focus eclipses time and reality
with one task – to ride. Nothing else and no one
else as the hours go by without notice. A state
that just occurs as my motivation peaks on the
irrational and I am driven by singular goals. To
the top, to maintain speed, to finish the
interval – one mind, one thought. The sacred time
when I take advantage of my motivation and do
more than I had planned. Knowing full well that
there will be days when I can’t get myself to
ride. The over motivation balancing out no
motivation.

At times I stare at my bike with disdain. It nags
me like an unpleasant chore. Knowing what I have
to do but struggling to get it started. If I can
do one minute, then I can do 15. The trouble is
getting on with the first. Hard times call for
drastic actions. Tricking my mind, duping myself
into training by finding entertainment and
distractions to shield myself from the counting
minutes.

Some of my best rides have been when motivation
was failing me to begin with. A ride were I
promised myself that I would only do 15 minutes
or only ride to the coffee shop in a effort to
get going. 30 seconds…30 minutes…now 45. My
friend Motivation finally catching up with me and
pushing me to ride longer or farther than last
week. Over the next climb, to the next town or
through the next 15 – determination takes me
places I didn’t think I would go.

The hardest part of being a full time athlete is
that very fact that you have to motivate yourself
all the time to ride. Goals accomplish this task
for the most part, but what about the days when
nothing seems possible or your goal seems distant.

There are times when not riding makes me guilty
but I have learned that sometimes it is for the
best. If you find yourself with a moment that you
can’t seem to find the motivation to ride or do
something, I have solved the mystery on how to
get it done. Just give in and start something
else that you should be doing. The lawn, the
dishes, the bills – suddenly, riding or the thing
you dreading, will become what you would rather
be doing.

Escapism and getting away from what you should be
doing is human nature. “If you’ve got a job to
do, do it now!” read a plaque in my kitchen when
I was growing up. Well from what I have seen, it
should read, “If you’ve got a job to do, try
doing something else and you’ll get on with what
you should be doing.” Sometimes the best way is
to take a break, then come back full of fire.
Back on the bike, back on track.

A case in point: I have wanted to write a story
for a long time now. Sitting time and time at a
blank screen with no idea of what to say. But
now, as the clock ticks and I am sitting in a
coffee shop, I should be somewhere else. Suddenly
I have all the thoughts in the world. I sit here
oblivious to the others except in my script. An
hour has passed, my coffee is cold and my hand is
cramped. Flood gates are open and I have my
answers. Mind clear. I think it’s time for a ride.

So far 2004 has been a year to remember. It has
been full of false starts and false hope. So far
this year I haven’t raced as much as I would have
liked. It has been filled with battles with
foreign bureaucracies in order to race, and
disappointments and setbacks that caught me off
guard. Throughout it all I have climbed on
dutifully, continued to train and continued to
believe. Sometimes I stare at my bike and wonder
where it will bring me. What’s in store next? Is
it all worth it?

And each time I climb on, sometimes reluctantly
because I wonder if it is worth it. But I climb
off with my answer, knowing full well that it is.

Keep pushing,
Glen