I love bicycles. I rode my first mountain bike back in the ‘early 80’s courtesy of Jerry Ahlberg in Marble, CO (look that one up) and have almost broke my collarbone more than once.
And the strange thing is: I love going uphill as much as downhill. I love that work. It’s a meditation around persistence and pain, but also the joy of moving forward.
On those very hard parts, I have to - by necessity - rise out of the saddle. It’s the only way I can get the leverage I need to get around the steepest corners or the vertical incline. It’s about the gritting of teeth.
That’s where we should be every now and again - at that moment we’re not sure we can make another revolution of the pedal but pedaling anyway. Breaking away from what is the status quo and into a view that’s a little bit better. Or maybe stopping completely, spent but knowing we can take another crack at it tomorrow.
A good life, perhaps, is measured by how many times we’ve risen out of the saddle just like that. What do you think, is it possible today?
I think so. I’m cleating in.