Late start, flat tire and goats in the road. What else will this day serve up?

Woke with thoughts of needing to find magnesium/potassium pills before much riding can happen. I have a plan to complete 30 very hilly kilometers by 1 pm and 20 km more in the afternoon. The pharmacy doesn’t open until 9:30. It’s a tight schedule but I’m determined I can do it. I’ve got a slight tenor of angst that I figure will push me up the hills. 

Sweet bike path from Dona Mencia to start the day.
 It’s 11:00 am and cresting on 27 degrees Celcius. I have just huffed my way up a steep ascent on a deflating tire into the village of Luque. I had just inflated it on the side of the road, (thank you to the cycling group that stopped to assist me; fresh arms to help with the iny hand pump were a blessing!) now I’m facing a flat. I have 2 plastic tire irons, a small hand pump and no bicycle shop around for 8 miles. I am just praying I don’t break these plastic tools because they are the only way to replace this tube. So I sit down in the center plaza and begin “gently” wrestling that tire. A few interested observers comment on my progress and after an hour I have success! The bike is up and running again. 

But now it is noon and I’m starving having only fruit for breakfast thinking I would quickly get to the next town and eat something substantial. I go to the only cafe in the square and the food is fabulous, rich with olive oil and garlic. I’m soaking it up with fresh bread and savoring every bite.  I’m trying to savor, at least the last bites as I wolf down the first plate in my ravenous state.  I can only imagine the table of older spanish men next to me must be either perplexed or disgusted with my gross display of etiquette. They are so civilized, sipping their beers and nibbling tapas as I gorge on my meal. 

It is 1 pm and the heat is intense. My plans are foiled. I will not ride in this heat, I will not cover the 30km, I will not make it to Granada tomorrow like I told my host I would…. This is not the day I planned. And then it hits me…. like a ton of bricks, like a wave of heat or the crashing sound of thunder….. I can’t control this. The only way through this is to surrender. 

I smile, I laugh (now the men at the table really wonder about me) and my insides settle. I have a peace that I haven’t felt these last few days. Surrender. Even the best laid plans crumble with the realities of life. I WANT to be more comfortable with this fact. I KNOW it to be true but my mind simply wants control and carries a beliefe that I am somehow stronger and more effective when I am in control. Oh silly mind….. how much you have to learn!

So I let go… and I sit in the shade of the old castle for an hour looking out at the hillside. I write in my journal, I find a cheap hotel in the next town because once 4 pm comes the heat will abate and I can ride again. I e-mail my host in Granada about the situation and low and behold it works better for him if I arrive a day later.  Surrender. 

When I leave town at 4 pm I am in a different mind state.  5 minutes out I encounter a herd of goats and their sheperds in the road. I LOVE it. I’m content to bike behind them at goat pace. The rest of the ride is glorious, climbs and all. I arrive at Priego de Cordoba early enough to have a leisurely evening.  

Surrender – you sweet gift. This is a lesson I learn over and over. How to hold onto this learning is another question. For now I am grateful to be held in it’s sweet embrace.