Well, here I am in Lahti, about 50 miles north of my starting point in Vantaa on day 1.5 of the bike portion of this trip, and I'm already starting to think...
Apart from a brief torrential downpour that soaked me as I was leaving Vantaa and the occasional outrageous gusts of wind, it's been by most cyclists' standards a pretty easy start. Finland is kind of a cyclists paradise, with large paved cycle paths covering all of the mid to large sized towns/cities, and miles upon miles of relatively flat roads with nothing more than the occasional bout of rolling hills. I've had no crashes and no breakdowns. Anyone accustomed to cycle touring would probably tell me that I've been spoiled rotten on my first day out.... and yet, the only words that have been rattling around in my brain are: THIS SUCKS!
Nothing about a bicycle is in any way comfortable. Even when coasting downhill, or riding a nice flat stretch of road, something always hurts. My shoulders hurt. My back hurts. My hands hurt. My legs hurt. My nether regions may never recover from just this first day and a half of trauma. What the hell was I thinking? I just cannot comprehend how anyone could possibly think this is fun. It's torture... plain and simple torture. And the worst part about it is, I've not been able to enjoy any of the new and wondrous scenery around me because I've been too focused on pushing through the pain and logging kilometers. And this is the EASY part! What the hell am I going to do when I actually encounter a decent sized hill or, God help me, a mountain? And all of this is going to go on for another 3 months?? Worst. Idea. Ever.
Okay, now that I got that little rant out of my system, lets take a step back and think a little bit about the predicament I find myself in. I've broken the moratorium on paying for lodging for a night in one of Lahti's budget hotels in order to give myself some comfortable space in which to try to regroup and reframe my situation. The shower that washed off the remnants of last night's camp in what turned out to be a mosquito breeding ground (thank God for bug repellent!!) didn't hurt either.
Anyway, I think there's two ways to look at this situation. I'm not a cyclist. I've never been a cyclist. The farthest I've ever cycled in one day before I set off yesterday morning was about 25 miles. Yesterday, I about doubled that. All of these aches and pains are my body adjusting to a new activity which places new and different physical demands on it than any of my normal day to day activities. I knew this was going to be a challenge, and I knew I couldn't expect to be good at this on my first day out... even on my first WEEK out... but if I can hang in there and push through it, eventually my body will adjust and the aches will subside (or at least I won't notice them as much) and I will come out the other side stronger for all of my efforts. That's option one.
Option two is declaring that I f*&%ing hate cycling!! Bicycles are the work of the devil, I'm NEVER going to get used to the kind of havoc they wreak on my body, and I would sooner spend the next three months locked in a sauna full of lutefisk than get back on that bloody thing. Best to call it a day and trade it in for something with a motor so I stand half a chance of actually enjoying even a little bit of this trip.
Every fiber in my being is currently rooting for option two. Every one but that stubborn little bastard in charge of pride and determination. That sonofabitch is still hanging in there by the very finest of threads, telling me that the city of Oulu, the first waypoint on my journey, is a mere seven days ahead of me, so if I can hang in there for just that one week I'll have about 600km under my belt as opposed to my current 90 and I'll be in a better position to know if option one or option two is closer to the truth.
And so tomorrow, after a good night's sleep in a real bed and a hearty hotel breakfast, the torture resumes... Sometimes I think I'm too stubborn for my own good.
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