Addiction is typically defined as a bad thing. Addiction to drugs, to alcohol, sex or even work is usually portrayed as a condition to be battled, to overcome. The same sources may recommend a strict regime of regular exercise and healthy living as the perfect antidote to the bad addictions that befall an overwhelming majority of the general populace. We are convinced that an ‘exercise addict’, ‘gym junkie’ or ‘health nut’ is a tag that we should be proud to hang around our necks, not something to be fought. But take away the words ‘exercise’, ‘gym’ and ‘health’, and all you’re left with is an undesirable character of questionable sanity with bad skin and rotten teeth. And no-one wants to be that person.
I’ve known, and know, a lot of people with a lot of addictions during my life. Moreso, I’ve been/am one myself. Both good and bad. The one unifying addiction throughout has been Cycling. It seems Cyclists are of the predisposition that doing something, anything, is best done to excess. I don’t really have any Cycling friends who ‘just do it on the weekends’, as one might play golf or go to the movies or ballroom dancing. Ok, those ballroom dancers seem to be a bit obsessed, too. But Cyclists, no matter how hard they try to kick the habit just seem to keep coming back, over and over again. And I’ve never heard a doctor or so-called expert tell a Cyclist to give that shit up before it sends them to an early grave. So what we’ve got ourselves is a ‘good addiction’.
Long before I ever read the tale of Guns n Roses’ bassist Duff McKagan’s pancreas exploding and his subsequent absolution through mountain biking (in BIKE magazine sometime in the 90s), I’d been fighting my own demons, and using the bike to help conquer them. Still am. Being a hard-drinking/drugging bassist (then later a DJ) and mountain biker myself at the time, I drew a lot of comparisons between us. I took some inspiration from his story, despite not being a fan of the band, and used it to tip the balance in favour of riding rather than partying.
I’d also been surrounded by a lot of other Cyclists who had delved a lot further into the sport than I ever had, and who had their own personal battles to fight. Some were up against alcoholism, others drugs, depression, or failed relationships. And on more than a few occasions, I heard the term “saved by the bike” quoted. Among all the turmoil, in the maelstrom of a life gone awry, their constant saving grace, the rock on which they could rebuild a solid foundation for happiness, or at least some form of normality – contentment, perhaps – was the bicycle. It was always there for them, silent, trustworthy, reliable, even if many other aspects of their situation weren’t. I wouldn’t hesitate to wager that it still is there for most, if not all of them. I know it is for me, and always will be.
Whenever I need saving, I know where to look.
I know as well as any of you that I've been checked out lately, kind…
Peter Sagan has undergone quite the transformation over the years; starting as a brash and…
The Women's road race has to be my favorite one-day road race after Paris-Roubaix and…
Holy fuckballs. I've never been this late ever on a VSP. I mean, I've missed…
This week we are currently in is the most boring week of the year. After…
I have memories of my life before Cycling, but as the years wear slowly on…
View Comments
Its always interested me in how life works out
Saved by the bike is the first read, now that I am back. Its been a long 2 weeks, but I'm back
I T-boned a car doing ~40kph, some happless mommy running to the babysitter half ass pulled out in front of me, then stopped, and Souleur had no place to go, but into her driver side door & over the car, which I did. No worries, I was ok, but as I jumped up I ran around the car...& sophie was busted all up on the ground. If it had been the scene of a dead body with blood and eviscerated organs all over the ground, I would have been no less sick to my stomach. Saved by the bike, and my friend sophie whom I loved lay there fractured in pieces with a fractured fork, and fractured headtube welds. It seemed like she took the hit for me, almost in a sacrifical love sort of way. Lil Mommy was concerned about me, but I was a fuckin mess because my love of 13 years had just passed before my eyes, the very first real bike I had, that I had bought, a hand made Italian welded beauty inspired by Pantani...lay there good as dead.
She saved me, you know, like you say, the one you can always run to, depend on, suffer WITH and never complained
I simply cared mutually for her over 13 years
Don't get me wrong, I have had other wrecks, split helmets, sewed my scalp back on etc, but this one, really messed with me because I really lost alot. Sophies gone
I had just sold my damocles, lost sophie and the shed is empty, and I am in a position to buy again, and until I just ran across this new frameset, I just didn't give a rats ass. I got up and fired up my beloved landcruiser and just drove to work like everyone else. Seems I am a bit lost, mad, perhaps even a little more than sad about this, but my singlespeed fixie is all I have in the shed. I have taken her out again, one I saved, in that she had cable boss's that basically became un-usable, and I converted her over to a fixie. After riding her the past 3 days, she has saved me. Interesting how that works out. I feel like looking again, looking at frames, one even inspired me and I had to call and talk to someone...a dude and he said he rocked the shit out of his and loved it...which again, is just guy talk but inspired and interested me
Saved..no doubt, but I suppose this can be a mutual thing
& putting this into words...its just sometimes too deep to adequately relay the full message and meaning
I completely agree. The bike has been the barrier between me and some rather upsetting places. Life just seems so much better on or with a bicycle.
Well, if you guys have been paying attention to the phrases and imagery I use in my guest articles and my posts you may have been able to come to the understanding that "the Rock on which I can build a solid foundation for happiness" might be a little different than brett's - but I can relate to what he is saying completely. My life has run the gamut of military service, stoner/death metal guitarist, restauranteur while married to a wealthy, gorgeous, control freak, etc. and the one constant, the one thing I always return to is the bike.
But I'd like to add to brett's excellent insight the notion of the age reversing effect that cycling can have on us - not only physically but mentally. When on the bike I am no longer the respectable, middle-aged husband that holds a decent job and a position of authority at a local church. I become a kid that loves tear-assing around through traffic like some bullet-proof N.Y. bike messenger. I giggle childishly to myself when cranked over at the limits of tire adhesion. I am not above a drag race with the neighborhood kids on their BMX bikes that foolishly think they can out sprint this old man.
Man, I love bikes.
@Souleur
Relax, all right? My old man is a television repairman, he's got this ultimate set of tools. I can fix it.
@Cyclops
I am no longer the respectable, middle-aged husband that holds a decent job and a position of authority at a local church.
Not to mention sole propriter of the awesome, hand-built Deacon Bikes and Idaho State champ in the above category. (Or was it something else?)
@wiscot
That too.
@Jamie
I don't think you can find true greatness in a single thread without being addicted to that thread. Being unable to pull yourself away from something is really the only way to give yourself completely over to it, and that is the essence of an addiction. Speaking as someone who has never suffered substance addiction, but certainly jumps from addiction to addiction in a healthier sense.
That's not to say that addictive persons are the only ones who achieve, plenty of people carry on perfectly normal levels of achievement in a well rounded way, but those that shine above all others in a specific area, likely are addicted to it, and probably suffer failure at a lot of other things in pursuit of their addiction. I would say this is true of business magnates as much as it is cyclists, football players, or sports broadcasters. Many of these people at the top of their respective professions are singleminded, all-in types, that are susceptible to the tendencies that create destructive addictions. If you can keep it focused on the "good" addictions, it is unlikely to ruin your life, if you can't, well... Again, I've never suffered the hell that must be substance addiction, but if someone needed a mind altering drug the way I need a workout, well I can only imagine that would put a damper on your life.
The Keepers are on fire this week - great posts! This ties in nicely to Franks last post as both have got me thinking about what early defining moments I had that sparked my love of bicycles (and suffering) and where I am today as a result. I can say the genie was out of the bottle the first time I bombed our local BMX attraction that claimed many a youths first and second layers of skin - the dreaded "Monkey Hill. The feeling I had standing at the top looking down was amplified only when I jumped the gravel road from the ditch and powered up the backside pitch on my Kuwahara Nova. The beautiful thing is that I still get the same rush 31 years later knocking out a really hard climb on a long ride or hammering a descent at speeds that defy sanity.
@Cyclops you said it brother! Its about being a kid again. In normal life I'm a 56 year-old husband and father of three. I'm getting sore when I walk, or bend down, etc. But put me on my bike, and I'm a kid again. No soreness, my legs feel so strong, and I'm free to hum along on the road and put the hurt on as many youngsters as I can find. And like-wise be on the receiving end of someone else's hurt stick, but it all feels so good.
And yes, I too love bikes.
Now nearly 8 years clean, I can say that there are not many things more appreciated, vital in fact, than hearing another person's story. I've heard a lot of stories and the only ones that get tiresome are those that are dishonest. So thanks for yours Brett.
A component of pathological addiction is obsession. Cycling became a healthy substitute for that obsession. Sure, you don't have to be an addict or obsessive to enjoy or excel at cycling (I am the exception that proves the rule). Passion is hot and emotional. Obsession is cold and mechanical. And the two are not mutually exclusive.
One truism you hear in the rooms is that the first high is always the best and can never be duplicated. I will say emphatically that this is not the case for cycling.
@Souleur Seriously, that is a sad story. There will be future bikes that are as good, but never another Sophie. My condolences.