I was out on a long ride Saturday (130 miles) with a couple friends. It was hot, and sunny, and glorious. For the first 60 miles I rode with a friend who had recently done a 24 hour race. He managed to crank out an astounding 312 miles in 24 hours, got himself heat stroke halfway through, passed out, got back up, and got second in his age category. The guy who actually won did it on a single speed (you speak of madness sir!).
I asked him, “what is it like to ride that far in one day?” His response was amazing.
“I dug a big hole, and then I put myself in it, I was in the pain cave for a long, long time.”
I was kind of floored by this. I mean, on the face of it, it sounds crazy. Why would you do that to yourself? But upon further reflection (around mile 100 that day) I started to understand it. I realized that I had been in the pain cave before, in fact I have sought out the pain cave, hunted for it all over the mountain until I found it, and then charged head long into it.
There is something cleansing about being in the pain cave, about pushing your body to some new level. Being in the pain cave leaves little room for anything else. There are no other worries in your life when you are in the pain cave. You don’t have a mortgage when you are in the pain cave, you don’t have relationship problems, you don’t have debt, or taxes, or bad Thai food, or car troubles, or termites in your foundation, when you are in the pain cave all you have is you, and the pain.
Around mile 100, when the road decided it was going to go up, and up, and not very much down, I realized I was approaching the entrance to the pain cave. I was suffering in the 95+ degree heat, my lungs were burning, my legs were tired, and my neck hurt, I was out of water. But I didn’t get into the pain cave that day, the ride ended, and my pain ended about 30 miles down the road.
I have been there before, the pain cave is a place you dread, and crave. Its hard to explain to someone who has never been, but once you go you are never the same again. You realize your body is capable of incredible feats, if only you can convince your brain to let it. I imagine marathon runners spend a lot of time in the pain cave, and long distance swimmers, and crazy ass Race Across America riders have summer homes in the pain cave, but you can get there if you try.
The secret seems to be rationalizing and tricking yourself. When you feel like you just don’t have anything left, when your legs feel like wet noodles, your lungs burn, your eyes ache, your back sings, and your hands are bleeding, you have to convince your brain that this is only the start. That you have more, that you can find more inside you, that you can push harder, go further, dig deeper. When you do, amazing things happen.
Your legs go away, your aches are turned down three notches, you start to float. You turn the cranks over and you just…keep…spinning. Miles float by like nothing as you grind the road into submission. Your are a rockitized animal, with one function, go go go. The pain cave cleans out all the useless bits you were carrying around, and replaces them with the will and desire to go forward.
A great writer once said, “mercy is the ability to stop.” You really can’t appreciate that, until you have visited the pain cave.
