You are the one with the sun and spray,
the pavement and painted lines. (Pugh, Molly)
From a very young age, my bike has always been my trusty companion. I rarely leave my house without it! One could say I have a very close relationship with it -- not as an object, but as a symbol. It was Childhood when the South Beach's salt rusted its body, carried candy from the Island Market, and clunked together with my tennis racket. It was Risk and Freedom when I rode home from my girlfriend's house in valley fog and darkness. It was Identity Formation when it supported me on a pilgrimage of minimalism and samaritanism. It was Escape when it stole me away from the hot-headed arguments with my parents. It brought Purpose when it pulled me away from suicide and depression.
have you not felt
what it is like to escape
or has nothing ever caused you
to run away
I cannot imagine my life without it, but sometimes I take it for granted. Last summer, I led adaptive cycling rides for people of all abilities. One participant who came along was visually impaired, and brought new insight into what it means to appreciate the sport that I cherish so dearly. I came to process my surroundings in a more meaningful and immersive way. I remember that we were once riding in the Cascade Foothills on a day with brilliant sunshine and clarity.
What do you see? She asks.
Rhubarb. Lots of it... And?
And mountains, and heat waves,
and kids jumping on trampolines, and--
She smiles. I love rhubarb.
Yesterday, I dreaded the thought of pedaling indoors for as little as a half hour. I am in the fifth week of training for my competitive season. This is an average of 15-18 hours a week on top of school, work friends, and my pooch. After my chore list is done and the sun has set, it's on to the stationary bike in my garage. I usually focus on my visible breath and drown out the fatigue with Netflix. Last week, I watched Lilo & Stitch (2002), The Way (2010), Food Inc. (2008), and a whole lot of Master of None. I complain about it a lot, but it is by choice. I am training to compete at three events that will make me eligible for nationals. When my muscles seize and the sweat stings my eyes, I am staring at a sticker on my handlebars. It reads "RF 471," in honor of a member of my racing community that passed away in an accident. This event helped me reevaluate my motivations and goals. No matter how hard I work or do not work, I have to be thankful for this privilege because racing is ultimately just for fun. Bike riding has led me to several supportive communities at Old Town Bicycle, Metro Parks Tacoma, the Northwest Collegiate Cycling Conference, and the WWU Outdoor Center.
I wept for his death
but also because he lost the very thing
I could not stand to lose
And now, in a way, my bike has led me to my field of study. Recreation and leisure services is centered around providing and/or facilitating recreation to others. My cohort contains some of the brightest and most passionate leaders I have ever encountered. There are NOLS alumni, veterans, cancer survivors, mountaineers, and mothers. I think I had briefly lost myself in admiring these folks that I had forgotten to live my own life. Truthfully, I was aspiring to be more like my peers without being true to myself. I became captivated with the idea of being a backpacking or whitewater rafting guide, while the most sacred and authentic answer was right in front of me all along. I know that maybe one day I'll find myself on the Wonderland Trail or Yakima River leading a group of people. But for now, I think I belong on a bike, pedaling around -- maybe helping others pedal around along the way.
To these ideals,
which were instilled in me when I was a youth,
I attribute in a large degree the success that was mine
on the bicycle tracks of the world. (Taylor, Marshall "Major")
And with that, I'm proud to announce that I'll be a youth mentor and ride leader with the Major Taylor Project for the next six months. This program strives to empower young people by teaching them about cycling, healthy living, and community/social ties. As part of the Major Taylor family, I hope to help teenagers realize that they have the tools to help bring them happiness, freedom, and success, just as I do.
