I have been trying to bike outside as much as possible, especially now that the weather is nice. I get better exercise while on my road bike than on the stationary bike.
I love riding my bike. I always have, but I love it now even more. Yesterday, I biked from the U District to Fremont to visit a tea shop and buy some tea. This morning I met friends at the Stone Way Cafe for coffee, and I biked there. I am getting my physical therapy cardio in AND I am connecting with friends.
I have heard that people who can't move their limbs sometimes enjoy swimming or floating in the water. They feel like they have control over their bodies in the water that they don't have on land.
I feel the same way about my bike. When I cross the street on foot, I am super tentative and cautious. On my bike, I am brave and bold, taking my turn in the traffic instead of avoiding intersections. I pass people on the Burke Gilman on a regular basis. Yesterday, I was surprised when I was passed. "That guy most be going really fast to pass me," I thought. This would not have been a thought two months ago when I was the tortoise on the bike path. I feel like a regular person on my bike.
On land, I am still one of the slower people around. I was riding the Light Rail last night. The train had been sitting there with the doors open when I got to the platform. I saw the open doors, but couldn't run or jog to them. I made it inside, but my big blue purse hanging on my shoulder got caught when the timer closed the doors. A man behind me pushed the button on the outside, opened the doors, and hopped in.
"You got move fast, Lady," he said. I was pissed. He didn't know I was moving as fast as I could. I am not a new transit rider. I have sprinted and leapt on a train before, once with my ten year old daughter on a packed train in London during rush hour. (We had a plan that if one of us got left on a tube platform, she would stay put at the current station or the next, and I would look for her.)
I remember reading L'Albatros, a Baudlaire poem in college about an albatross that is caught by men on a ship. The majestic bird of the sky becomes a laughing stock on the deck of the boat, unable to walk because of his wings. I feel like the albatross on land, and I fly on my bike instead of in the sky.
http://fleursdumal.org/poem/200
This blog is about the little and big thoughts that pop into my head. I once read that when Flannery O'Connor walked into a bookstore, she would want to edit her published works with a red pen. In the digital world, we have the luxury of tweaking things up after we've hit the publish button. I can be a perfectionist/procrastinator, where waiting for the ideal means little gets done. Here I will share what is not--and likely will never be--perfect.
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