[dc]P[/dc]ain is an interesting, often elusive and sometimes debilitating creature. Almost always negative in connotation, it denotes a kind of suffering, either physical or mental, as a result of some assault upon our body or mind. As human beings, we associate pain with misery, with suffering, with disability and typically strive to avoid it wherever possible. However odd it may seem, athletes in general (and cyclists in particular) seem to live for the rush of agony that often accompanies competition.
But why? What is it about this universally negative condition that drives some of us to seek it out while the majority of the population tries to escape it?
What, really, is the nature of pain?
We can look at pain in so many different ways. Merriam Webster defines pain as:
In the purely physiological sense, this definition is exactly what we flash to when the word “pain” is mentioned. We think of brushing a rosebush and thorns tearing into our skin, or we imagine spilling a piping hot espresso (sacrilege!) on our hand and the intense burning that accompanies it. Hitting closer to home, we may conjure up memories of the aching, burning, searing agony in our legs during an impossibly hard effort and the wish for an end to the pain.
Or a sickening love of it.
That's where you'll notice that there's a definition that precedes the physiological one: 1 : punishment. So often, many of us thrive on the punishment we can dish out, both to our own bodies and to the competitors around us. But what drives it? What turns us from a normal human being, who seeks to minimize pain, into an agony devouring monster?
Exploring the Love of Hurt
A little background on myself: I've dealt with back problems for many years, mostly stemming from a car accident when I was seventeen. There have been good spells and bad ones, for sure, but in the past six months or so it's been more bad than good. Low back pain comes and goes, and I've become accustomed to dealing with it periodically. The real problem comes with the pain that radiates down my left glute and hamstring: persistent, sharp jet of misery with each step. Riding a bike provides some relief, but climbing out of the saddle (my favorite activity and my favorite position to climb in) is a constant reminder that my body is broken. Yet, there's absolutely nothing better than a long, steep, brutal pitch that brings searing agony to every part of my legs, least of all my left hamstring and glute.
How can this be?
There's a certain special trait among cyclists in which we can learn to embrace pain and use it to fuel our ambitions. The more it hurts, the more determined we are to create more suffering, both in our aching legs and in the legs of our competitors. Even a glimmer of suffering from one of the other two wheeled combatants signals the need to turn the screws tighter: a gasp for air, a shake of the head, a slump of the shoulders. With any display of weakness, we punch the throttle and revel in the suffering we cause to those around us. We rationalize our misery with the revelation that others are hurting just as bad as we are, if not worse, and the glory of emerging victorious at the crest of the climb is fuel for our own suffering.
For me, there's nothing more special than tip-toeing the line between outright brutality and mere punishment. Pushing the limits of pain tolerance flushes any other misery from my body. Even that persistent hamstring and glute pain becomes muted when masked by the sweet misery of lactic acid induced suffering. And that self-inflicted suffering is only fuel for the machine, creating a craving for pain that can only be satiated by the next climb. It's a bizarre sickness that can only be cured with prodigious amounts of self-inflicted anguish and it's a monster that constantly needs to be fed.
So personal narrative aside, what is the nature of pain?
Maybe it's the cleansing feeling of punishing your body in search of personal glory. Perhaps shattering your group as the road winds uphill is the motivation that leads you to drink from the chalice of agony. Or maybe it's just a twisted feeling of satisfaction knowing that you've pushed the boundaries of physiology beyond what your body (and brain) thinks is acceptable.
The only answer to that question lies within each of us: as humans, as cyclists, as masochists. We can only answer as to the nature of pain in our own mind.
What's yours?
