So, buckle up, folks, because tomorrow we’re back to your regularly scheduled programming of bike races and epic adventures. Spoiler alert: snagged 9th at the Butte 100, but that’s a story for another day. Right now, I’m knee-deep in revision 2.0 of my “Optimal Number Theory,” which started in a rather unorthodox way. Picture this: a full-blown bike sulking session, followed by a retreat home feeling utterly wiped. You know that desperate energy when sleep won’t come? Yeah, that. So, voila, a blog post was born. Maybe writing my thoughts out will lull me to dreamland (fingers crossed, because if it does, you get this upon my glorious awakening!).
Let’s rewind to Revision 1.0, shall we? We find ourselves in the land of “lost days,” yesterday being Exhibit A. Or is it today? Wait, did I stay up all night? Time is a funny thing when you’re sleep-deprived. The key takeaway then was that two was the optimal number, better than one or a whole group. But like any good theory, it needed more research. Fast forward a year, and here I am, armed with new data – and you guessed it, mountains are back in the picture! Because hey, spending time amongst giants tends to teach you life lessons, whether you like it or not. Deep, I know.
But hold on, let’s not revise that main point just yet. There’s a new wrinkle: other entities might influence the optimal number. Unless you’re solo, that is. Then you’re like a lone wolf, unaffected by the pack. That’s where my focus has shifted.
Remember that “two peaks are better than one” thing? Still stands. Sometimes, you need to conquer that solo summit to truly appreciate its beauty. Just like in life, you gotta have your own space to grow, shine, and face your demons. But here’s the kicker: are we defined by the mountain range we belong to, or what we bring to it?
Confession time: I’ve been guilty of wanting to be the star peak, but lately, being part of the range has yielded some interesting data. Turns out, sometimes you gotta step back and let others bask in the spotlight. Unexpected, right? And who knows, maybe the other mountains will evolve and shake up the theory entirely. Maybe optimal numbers are fluid, not fixed. Maybe I’ll crumble into a scenic alpine lake – hey, it’s up to my fellow peaks, you know? That’s the real discovery here.
So, does that mean solo is the holy grail? Can we truly be ourselves with others dictating our existence? Do we even need to stand out? The truth is, while we might be better together, forming a stronger “range” than a lone mountain, this “togetherness” requires active participation from everyone. If one peak decides to go rogue and chase its own glory, the rest get left behind, frustrated, and the range fractures, leaving a lonely valley in its wake.
But wait, what about the joy of sharing our journey with others? That’s still a thing, right? Now, here’s the wormhole: can a mountain range truly exist with just one mountain? Nah. More mountains add beauty, but too many can dilute their individual awesomeness. It’s a balancing act, folks.
But hey, that’s all up for debate! This Revision 2.0 just adds another layer with fresh data from a year of research. So, where do I go from here? Is it better to be a lone wolf or part of the pack? Stay tuned, data fiends, because more adventures (and mountains) await!
Boneshakerbike 
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