dylannord:This Sunday I run my first marathon, and on Monday I start riding my bike again. With a
dylannord: This Sunday I run my first marathon, and on Monday I start riding my bike again. With all that looming, it’s got me thinking about why and what I love about riding. The bike is different than anything else. It’s my best excuse to do something stupid, to get lost, to push myself, or to call a couple of old friends with a half cooked idea and see what happens. That’s why I love it, but what is it about the riding?I’ve been asking myself when I’m the happiest on the bike. This answer is a bit tougher. It’s definitely those early morning workouts. The 5 o’ clock Central park mornings with the Rapha boys. Those few months in the summer when you are in really good shape, playing far’lek. You’ve got your tongue hanging out of your mouth, but you’re strong. You can feel it in the pedal strokes, fluid. It’s that. But it’s also 100% the burning hot weeknights at Floyd Bennett Field or the Port of Oakland. When you’re getting your legs and heart simultaneously ripped out. You are thinking that you can’t possibly keep the wheel in front of you, but somehow you do. You find a mountain of strength you never knew you had, one lap at a time.And for me, the insomniac, it’s the late, quiet nights alone with some good music. When I’m riding in and out of dim street lights, and I feel like I own the place. That sense of being alone in special cities like New York or San Francisco is magical. But I’m not sure I’ve ever had more fun than dodging NYC traffic and doors on my 1984 Trek. It’s the most dangerous real life video game I’ve ever played. When you’re twenty and dumb, you’re also invisible. I was carry packages on my back working for shit money as a messenger, but I felt wealthy. OK, it’s a lot of things. But gun to my head, the best, the most unique and rewarding experiences on the bike are the more rare. It’s when a truly great group of human beings put aside their busy schedules, responsibilities, and stresses to come together and end up somewhere new. It’s silly, but it always feels a bit like you’re all there to conquer or explore. As if every new road you ride can be added to some unfinished map. Then if you’re really lucky, you’ll get in a bit over your head. It’s those moments, just between fear and excitement, pain and pleasure that you’ll never forget. Then, in a way, you are exploring. Because in these rare times, every new road, fall, or climb gets etched into a blank spot in your memory like lines that become a map. The bike, and the people that ride them have done so much to enrich my life… I’m looking forward to getting back on and getting into some trouble.PS. This photo was taken by Jon Baines, who I call Bainesy. He’s brilliant and more impressively, supremely kind. Check him out. -- source link