As Silly As Bicycling
I am addicted to bicycling. Perhaps I should say that I am passionate about bicycling. Bicycling through time and space at a swift twenty-five miles per hour elicits a rapturous delight!
At those speeds on rolling roads, my body often experiences weightlessness. When the road crests, my body surges up; I become weightless and float down as the road descends. The wheels pop into dips in the road surface, abruptly rise back up, and my bike leaps into my arms. Leaning through turns is freeing as I sway from side to side. When a sudden, robust wind surprisingly thrusts me sideways, natural reflexes maintain my upright balance. Those physical sensations invade my psyche, calm my mind’s chatter, and soothe my soul.
At a twenty-five mile per hour pace, I can bicycle one hundred miles – or as cyclists say, “a century” – in four hours. I can be continuously on the bike – in the saddle – for two hours before I need to rest and give my muscles a change of activity. Thus, maintaining a twenty-five mile-per-hour pace, I take my first rest stop at fifty miles into the ride. At my next stop, I have completed cycling a century.
I treasure those fast rides, but I have only had a handful of such experiences. The downhill routes just do not continue downhill long enough. The strong winds are rarely at my back. The truth is that without descents or strong tailwinds, my riding abilities move me along at a pokey, yet delightful, average pace of eleven miles per
- - - page 1 - - -