Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Tales from the Top Tube: Discouragement and Optimism on a Bike

We always hear of the indescribable joy that is experienced from the seat of a bicycle, or the sheer bliss one experiences when all the parts of the bike are moving in fluid harmony, propelling you forward with greater ease than ever before, even riding with less effort along the same road that you always take. Perhaps we romanticize bicycling too much, as the cure for all societal and emotional ills.

There are some days where a bicycle seems to be my worst enemy. These days are very, very few and far between, but when they hit, they seem to come with full force, and try to knock me off my saddle for good. I returned from an amazing Christmas break in California a few weeks ago, during which I spent the majority of my time riding my bike up and down mountains, over bridges, and through the fog. It was a delightful time, full of that bliss that defies all words. Upon my return, I spent most of the day unpacking, putting bikes back together, getting a little riding in, and having dinner with my sister. It was a great day and it felt good, though bittersweet, to be back in Utah.
Later that night, I got on a bike to head over to a friend’s house for dinner. Nothing felt right on my bicycle. The shifting was stiff, the bottom bracket felt like it had sludge in it, and everything was a lot slower than I thought. Part way through the ride, I noticed that my light had gone out. I smacked my light a few times so that it would work again. “Why isn’t anything working?” I thought to myself. “Why did I even come back to Utah?” This is where, in retrospect, I think I might have been blaming a bit too much on my bike, and for that I apologize. But then it just got ridiculous. After trudging along at a tortoise’s pace for a few more minutes, I fell off my bike in the middle of the road because I couldn’t clip out of my pedal. A few minutes later, after looking back to see if my light was still working, I realized that the light and the bracket had broken off completely, most likely due to the fall. Then, after dropping off a book at the library, I got a flat in my rear tire after leaving the parking lot. I was lucky that I was only a few blocks from dinner, but I trudged there with quite a scowl anyway.

I was quite grumpy for longer than I should have been, but I couldn’t help but feel like my bike was punishing me (or being punished itself) by some long overdue karma. I was pretty ticked off. What really sets me off (while on a bike, or while thinking about bikes) is the idea of having to fix (and pay for) something that I didn’t break, something that shouldn’t need fixing. Perhaps it is because we might idealize bicycles as being indestructible, never-need-to-be-serviced-or-replaced kinds of vehicles. Maybe, when we talk about bicycles too romantically and not realistically enough, our hopes and dreams are shattered when the smallest little wrench is thrown in the works (no pun intended).

Here is my point. When so much time has gone by without any setbacks or any mechanical problems on your bicycle, it can be easy to forget that it’s not just a dreamlike cloud that takes you from place to place with little to no effort. Don’t allow the extended period of relative maintenance-free riding make you doubly upset when something does happen. Think positively, keep your bicycle maintained, and even if there is a mishap or a mechanical failure (or 5 in one night), don’t let it throw you off the saddle. That night where everything imaginable seemed to go wrong seems a bit silly in retrospect. Sure it was tough and frustrating to be stuck with a bike that wasn’t working quite how it was supposed to, or how I hoped. But it was one day. I’m not stuck with that bike, in that condition forever.

Bicycles are amazing. Our bodies are amazing. We are immensely blessed to be able to move ourselves about, freely and under our own power. So, even when it seems like your bike hates you, or the universe hates you, or that big hill between you and your destiny hates you – just smile. Don’t think on it too long. Sing a song, or hum a tune, or think of better times. Depression and discouragement on a bike don’t last too long. So try to see it as a passing storm cloud, don’t let it get you wet, and ride on. Ride on Salt Lake City.

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