I have written recently about the “off season” and how I look forward to moving my body differently during the winter months  - repairing both my body and mind from the grueling pace of training when I am in season. But even a “Derailleur” can learn a thing or two about what does and doesn’t work. And that includes how to repair a “bruised ego”.  Now, you haven’t been reading my blogs thinking I was perfect did you? Of course I am not. I make mistakes all the time. But I make all new ones and never the old ones over and over again. That was until last week. I did make one old mistake that I had made years earlier as a young 20-something eager to prove I could ignore my body’s messages of pain and push through it. Pain is different than discomfort. Remember that for this story.

My job as a Derailleur is to support you on your journey. Both your journey in-season and off-season. Your in-season journey may include becoming a stronger rider on hills. Your in-season journey may include mastering sneaking out of your house to get your ride in so you have “you time”. There is no judgment either way. There is an ebb and flow to your journey and that includes allowing yourself an off-season. For both your body AND mind. So what is your off-season journey made up of?

For those of us who call New England home, the off-season is a forced break from the treacherous, icy roads when we instead spend countless hours on our indoor trainer. Off-season for some in more “more temperate” climates may mean that their competition schedule is over and they are just “riding to ride” – mileage gets lower and training less intense. Or in the example of my friend in Florida, her off-season is in the dead of summer when temperatures and humidity force a counter-seasonal off-season for her. She claims her best rides are in the winter. So be it.

I admit it, I am a junkie. I crave a hit everyday. I can’t seem to live without it. My newest addiction is TED.com. There are worse things to be addicted to I guess, but it still feels like being under its powerful grip is like I am doing something wrong. TED.com’s tag line is “riveting talks by remarkable people.” And if hearing stories and ideas from remarkable people is an addiction, then count me as a happily addicted person who seeks no cure.

As a Derailleur, I hear stories on a daily basis from my clients. Stories of failures, stories of “stuckness” and stories of survival. And of course, after working with a client for a few months, those stories of “not enough” turn to stories of success. So it gets me thinking, “what story do you tell yourself everyday?” What do you replay in your head over and over again? Is it one of victimhood? Is it one of survival? Or is it one of hope? What would your TED talk be about if you were asked to get on stage and share your story?

As The Derailleur at Terry Bicycles, my job as your “Life’s Coach” is “to make it count”. What do you need to make count? What if I told you everything?

As a Performance Coach for my clients’ minds, I am reminded that placing a premium on a positive outcome – a personal best or a breakthrough of some sort is not uncommon during their goals for success during a race or an event. But what happens in your day-to-day journey on the bike (and in your life)? Do you intentionally set a goal to have a breakthrough or a PR each time you go out and ride? Probably not. Perhaps you are like me where the victory is in actually getting out and getting your ride in. Juggling family, their needs, your work and life itself, just getting out on the bike for a mile can be a major victory.

As The Derailleur at Terry Bicycles, my job is to be your “Life’s Coach”. As a Performance Coach for your mind, I am reminded time and time again about the social comparison theory that my clients allow to rattle around in their minds. The social comparison theory sounds like, “She is so much better than me at that…his life is perfect…why can’t I be more like them.” We compare ourselves to those who we feel are better, stronger or appear to have the perfect life. In other words, we compete.

While comparison and competition are good things when they offer us awareness around where we are in our journey, we too often use comparison and competition for the wrong reasons, especially around things we cannot change. For example, I am 5’4” in height, a fireplug in stature and have bone straight hair. I will never be 5’10”, or rail thin, and will never have Julia Roberts’ hair. But I admire the beauty in all of those characteristics as long as I remember to admire the beauty in having all of my qualities. I don’t want to compete with anyone anymore…then why do I race my bike weekend after weekend? What am I trying to prove? What am I seeking by competing?