Winter…. life.

I'm old now. If I were a patol from my Prague housing estate, I could have already married my wife Dagmara and my son Seb. Not only that, my little son Sebek, who would have inherited patrol from me, would probably have his son Sebek. Because Sebki multiply quickly - in contrast to winter kilometers. These fly slowly like a fatbike up the hill and vice versa to the weight after the holidays ... It is a secret mystery that long trousers steal power from their legs. Same as hair. In the winter there is a combo - everything accumulates. Old people do not want to do things, they are still cold, and if that is not enough, they question the meaning of obvious things. As obvious as tapping 500 kilometers between Christmas Eve and New Year. That for a badge, for a stamp, to prove to yourself and others? They do not understand. This year I am them. I lost sense. I asked a question that should not be asked: for what?

Three years ago I passed Rapha 500, two years ago too a year ago. I also had a plan this year. The beginning of patting kilometers in the Karkonosze, then a quick gear for the sea, because there is no snow and it will be easier, and then the grand finale in Warsaw. Fireworks, congratulations, splendor, kudos, patting. The first episode of the third season of Black Mirror.

I do not remember when I last rode on the road or cross-country more than 20km. Tanlajny disappear, the leg is flooded, bicycle service sees me only when there is a party with cookies. Friends remembered how I look, my backside felt the feeling of wearing panties for more than a few hours a day. Here is life, welcome. And in this life, which I am still a beginner padawan, one beautiful day in the morning (when the window is mud, wind, 2 degrees, but it does not bother me, because the smog covers everything), I stand in front of the mirror. The reflection looks at me and asks a simple and painful question: IN NAME WHAT YOU WANT TO CHANGE ?!

As riders, or even more broadly - athletes, we have obsessions that no one will understand. The fear of doing anything is greater than fear of the biggest challenges. Stupid ideas are born quickly and they hurt a long time. Festive 500 contradicts this rule. This is an event that is waiting for the whole year: with hope, with plans, with expectations. After him we will become the knights of hard-rock. Grandma and mother will look like crazy when we leave the festive breakfast to dress onions and fight with the snow bike. Casual people on the sidewalks will look with admiration, and with each encountered cyclist we will exchange a gesture of mutual respect and admiration.
... only that there is no snow again, and it's spring outside, nobody is waving to anyone anymore and the whole plan is drawn to the nose.

Who has more weight? Festival of Outrage

This year is exceptionally. Somewhere to the side, maybe by mistake, maybe not, the Rapha fanpage announced in some comment that the Festive 500 can be done without leaving the house. Is it true - nobody knows. As if all of us were few entries about the great application, which is Zwift connected to the trainer, added the possibility of completing the challenge just on it, in the basement. It started a festival of indignation. That it is too easy now, that it is a feat, that it is against the idea. The eternal comparing of world's injustices has gone into motion - whoever has the harder one, the better. If I work 20 hours a day, I have four children, I lost my left leg and live in the vicinity of Novosibirsk, it is easier to spend the remaining 4 hours on the trainer than the founders of Stravy from the best city in the world - San Francisco (here's the SF entry)? There is no such facilitation!

Cycling is supposed to be hard, it hurts, and if you do not break down in the driveway, you do not know what life is. It is best if he has frostbitten his fingers and left during pneumonia. Like those guys who finish the marathon with a broken leg. The fact that it would be growing 7x longer, but they fought to the end and that's what counts. Then he deserves respect from street people.
These types of discussions go on forever. Because no one seems to drive for themselves - after all, the effects matter!

Rank.

We go for kudos, for kilometers during the year, to pass the highest pass, to complete the mission, to do something better and further. Somewhere, this makes sense. I often get caught up in the fact that instead of enjoying the road, I mainly think about where to take a nice photo. This is not how I imagine the Festive 500. I've probably noticed it last year last year summarizing this beautiful week:

Festive 500 gave me such a nice feeling that I "drummed" and I know that I can go outside, but I prefer home. When the word "drumming" or "driving around kilometers" begins to appear when writing about your hobby, it gets dangerous (...)

One week later we went cross-country in the Czech Giant Mountains - it was incredibly stupid. A month later we were with fatbikes in the Stołowe Mountains. In both cases, we were doing 30-50 kilometers a day. It was great, it turned out that when you do not chase kilometers, and the road is chosen not to be simple, and so that it would be interesting, winter is a wonderful time of year.

It hurts a bit driving for kilometers. If you like someone, of course, there is no problem - in life the most important thing is to do what you like. Because yes, maybe for this mythical 500km in 8 days comes an exclusive Royal Mail shipment directly from the Rapha headquarters, with a fabric patch, which is like an order from the president (and for free!). At Festive 500, however, (at least for me) it is about creating a story - for quality, not quantity. It is not without reason that the main prizes are divided into two categories: for those who have finished and for those who have failed: epic failure. Of course - an attempt to make the longest distance or the fastest completion in the country can also be an interesting story.

40km after a varied, muddy, or even snow-covered route through the forest, has much more potential for an interesting story than 100km made on 13 laps of Carrefour, just because the road was flat and cleared of snow, making it the easiest way tamp kilometers. Here I am going to present you:

The saddest sentence in the blog's history:

Nobody is interested in how many kilometers you have traveled. But really - everyone likes to share their year-round result with others and there is nothing wrong with it. We give ourselves fools and kudoski, but it is really interested in #nikogo. It's like talking thank you coming out of the elevator - am I really and sincerely thanking you for a joint journey through two floors? What is it that interests you, have I done 9466km this year or 15844km?

This pressure that someone judges us takes away a lot of fun. What else good stories and memories of these trips. By sharing a mute on social media, there is a chance that we will involve even our non-sports friends. I know a lot of people, completely nierowerowych, which encouraged by blog entries began to look shyly towards cycling and famous driveways. After that, all you have to do is talk to me that Stelvio can really drive anyone, we send her an article about it what bike to buy and we have a new enthusiast. Or not ... but that's it niepasjonat and he will be happy to look at our history-related stories.

In the name of principles.

The Festive 500 idea is beautiful. The idea to motivate people to leave the house in probably the least convenient week of the year seems crazy, but Raphie does it. These 25 hours outside and a few for dressing, washing and defrosting fits perfectly into the idea of ​​family holidays and family holidays. Not to go out, not to remind yourself that in winter it can also be done and it can be pleasant for a while, but to do exactly 500km and not less. Every day you get up in the morning and looking out the window you are thinking how to push those missing kilometers into the schedule. It's still a makeshift: after all it's been planned for a long time, dinners and breakfast are shifted accordingly, and you know the weather forecast by heart.

500km is quite a lot despite appearances. It is so much that the first 300km encourage us to return to the bike, and the next one makes us realize that, however, riding in the winter should be limited to special occasions. The whole challenge ends with a feeling Finally, the end and quite a bike, instead but it's nice to go, I have to go out more often.

Did this text write some sadness?

All in all, it does not matter. Festive 500 is like Christmas. You wait all year, you enjoy, they come, you wait for them to end, because it's fun with your family, but when you answer for the sixth time that thank you for the fish, I'm full, you feel some tiredness. The day after you are glad that the next year, but with each next day, quite unjustly, you are more and more happy to their arrival.

Because, yes, festivals like the Festive 500 often resemble more top-down duty than joy. For a few moments at the table they require countless preparations and tapping next tasks, but from the perspective of time they are always mentioned well. So let's try to make our hobbies be less about punching miles, and more to live them. It will be like a saint, before which you do not have to clean your apartment, argue in the parking lots under supermarkets and stand in endless queues.

Post Scriptum, but only to justify photos in the text

If you were counting on a relationship with our Festive 500, I'm sorry. The text ends on Wednesday. The same Wednesday that I spend at work, which I leave when it is already dark outside - just like Thursday and Friday. Will I be able to get missing kilometers during the weekend? I do not know.

I would like to write something nice about our native side of the Giant Mountains, but I can not. According to Panda, this is the ugliest place in which she was. Huge, falling houses with beige smoke at the top, separated by manors and modern SPA resorts. It's hard to say how much this objective look, but this year's lack of snow and the awareness that it is so close to the western border, for which it is great, can intensify this. We will come back to the subject when we can see the beauty of the region. If anyone ever told me that the snow at the end of December will have to be looked above 800-900 meters above sea level, I would think crazy.