My favorite thing about biking is the high that comes from it. And I’m not saying that I get loopy, or that I starting thinking deeply about the past and the future, or that I shouldn’t operate heavy machinery. I just mean that after a good ride, I feel drained – and this opens me up a little bit.
About 13 months ago I went for my first-ever bike ride outside, led by the certified badass Chris Fisher, ex-pro and colleage of mine here at school. We decided to do a short ride around the lakes. It was time to put the new bike to use.
However, there was a problem. I had been sick for a few days before the ride, and I hadn’t eaten very well (or exercised at all). I also hadn’t had breakfast, which brought my total to about one full meal in four days. I wasn’t quite ready.
About two miles in I was already feeling pretty awful. I felt like I was about to throw up, and I could barely keep up with Chris, who was not riding very fast. I was pushing through it, but with about two miles left I got a flat tire.
Unprepared to change the flat, we had to press on. With a wobbly rear wheel I tried to press through the last leg and up the hill toward campus, but I was feeling really sick and had nothing left. Chris rode up the hill next to me, his hand on my back, pushing me along.
It was a pretty inauspicious start.
Which brings me back to the natural high. When I got back to my apartment that morning, I decided to rest by watching an episode of Scrubs. I happened to choose the saddest episode of this comedy, and when it ended, tears were streaming uncontrolably down my face. I don’t remember ever crying that hard.
The ride had totally drained my ability to put up a strong front. I was just so tired that I couldn’t fight the tears.
While I realize that I’m forever debunking the idea that I’m a tough person (but who really thought that anyway?), this is something I love. I think it makes me a better person to be around – more agreeable, mellower, more open. It’s a nice way to live.
On Monday I rode the trainer while watching the Boston Marathon on TV. I saw the first “speed rim,” or wheelchair, participant cross the line – a Japanese man who had been propelling himself for 26.2 miles using absolutely incredible upper-body strength. He couldn’t contain the tears as he fought the excruciating pain and got his reward of sheer and utter joy.
It’s the thought of working myself to the bone and winning a race that keeps me working hard.
Today, I rode that same 10.2 miles that I failed on last year – and did it about 20 minutes faster. It’s our time trial course, and I completed it in 1:04 slower than I did a week ago, but today I rode it after doing two hours and fifteen minutes of intense climbs and false flats (okay, there were some downhills mixed in there, too).
I’m feeling pretty good right now. And that’s why I love biking.
1 comment:
The post-ride emotional overflow is well-documented. Well, not really, but I pretend it is because it makes me feel better about crying over commercials that aren't remotely sad.
After one of my earlier season 4 hour base/endurance rides, I watched 50 First Dates. I was a wreck. I think the cycling plays with the hormones . . .
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