When you fail to do something you were supposed to do, it can nag at you. But the longer you put it off, the harder it can be to get around to doing.
I have not been to the dentist for over a year, and I almost always make my every-six-month visit. But last year I put off making an appointment with my dentist, put it off again, then a bit more – and before I knew it was 17 months. I knew I had to get in there, but the longer I waited the harder it became to make that call. Putting it off further had become a habit. My dentist called me a few times to remind me to come in, and I was annoyed at the phone call. A bit of stress developed around making that tardy dentistry appointment.
I finally gritted my teeth, so to speak, and made the phone call yesterday. (I see the dentist next Thursday at 8 a.m.)
The same dynamic has developed to getting on my road bike. I had some wonderful bike rides last summer, and even more all throughout the more “closed down” moments of the Coronavirus quarantine in 2020. (The local government could not ban us from riding bikes, although they probably would have if they could!) In fact, I had a few bike rides last summer with my friend John Barich from Georgia which convinced me to be more regular in my riding. “If you pay that much in taxes and housing costs to live in coastal California, and you have all this glorious nature and beaches to ride on, it is almost criminal if you are not on your bike enjoying it semi-regularly,” he told me in the middle of a ride. John was totally right, and I have not forgotten that conversation.
But then the summer ended. I went back to work in my classroom for the new academic year, and I also coached my daughter’s high school tennis team; and suddenly I was busier than a one-armed wallpaper hanger. Next thing I knew it was the middle of November and it got dark early. It was also cold. It was not great timing for biking.
Weeds and cobwebs had grown around my road bike, and I was no longer used to getting on it. I swore to myself that would change when spring arrived with better weather and more sunshine. But I knew I had to put a couple hundred bucks into fixing up my bike, and that would be a chore which would be no fun. So my bike sat there through the spring, and I neither took it into a bike store nor rode it at all. Like with the dentist, it was on my “to do” list. But take it in, get it fixed, pay the money… that did not get done. The longer I waited to fix my bike up, the harder it seemed to become.
Until earlier this week. I got my bike all fixed up and now it is ready.
Today was the first day of summer for me, and I took my re-furbished bike out for the first ride in months.
It might have been long overdue, but it was also GLORIOUS.
I biked around the orchards in east Ventura where I live two hours ago, and the weather was WONDERFUL and the bike felt PERFECT. New shoes, new gloves, new tires… I am ready to ride two thousand miles this summer.
In fact, that is what I can see my soul needs in the short-term.
I need long bike rides out along the beaches of central California. Two and three hour escapades with just my thoughts, the sun, the beach, and the road. My lungs would expand to take in the oxygen which would power my muscles to pedal mile after mile. Hour after hour the aerobic work progresses and the endorphins start to take over; my state of consciousness changes as exhaustion approaches, and I gain new insights into myself and my life. Extreme physical exertion brings spiritual catharsis and then emotional stasis. I want to sweat in the desert heat until the water evaporates, leaving only the salt… and then to sweat on top of that only to have it evaporate again, over and over — and when I finally get home and shower, the salt hurts my eyes as it washes out. After I have sweated out and replaced all my fluids over fifty miles on the road, I want to eat a substantial meal. I crave food after hours on the road; my body screams for fuel. “Protein for the tired muscles to re-build stronger,” I think, “and carbs for the glucose to get my energy back.”
For me there is no calm like that after a two hours bike ride in the open air which exhausts the body, quiets the mind, and feeds the soul. It used to be three hours on the bike, but as I age I lower my expectations. But perhaps I need the experience more than ever!
Sure, I will be in the rain forests and on the beaches of Costa Rica this July, and all around the Bahamas in August. I will swim and snorkel in the Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea –
– but look for me this summer, fellow traveler, out on the open road.
I’ll be there eating up the miles on my road bike.
Happy summer of 2022 everyone!
“SONG OF THE OPEN ROAD”
by Walt Whitman
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
