La Vie Velominatus, Part IV: The Great Escape

One of the most magnificent things about Cycling is that not only does it represent different things to different people, it represents different things on different days. Some days, it’s training – a means to an end. Other days, it’s the culmination of a body of work; rather than a means to an end, it represents that end itself, whether that end is exhilarating or devastating. But these two facets represent Cycling only as Sport, the complex simplicity of the balance between dedication and results.

Cycling stands apart, however, in its many dimensions beyond Sport. For me, Cycling is meditation, a time to clear my mind of ancillary concerns and contemplate on those that require my focus. It is thoughtlessness, a time to eliminate everything through the simplicity of pain. It is simultaneously medication and therapy; even a short ride can shake a heavy lethargy from my bones and rejuvenate aching muscles and joints. It is simultaneously tension and release; Cycling can fill my being with effort, an effort that overflows my legs and lungs and spills over to fill every fiber of my being, flushing from me all those things I wish not to keep.

Cycling is penance for my mistakes; a few hours at the mercy of the Man with the Hammer can help me understand the error of my ways. It is cleansing of other’s mistakes – here the Man with the Hammer helps pound out the ripples in the surface of Life they cause me.

I am by no means a great man and never will be. But I am a better man for my bike, and for that I am eternally grateful to it.

Vive la Vie Velominatus.