Expensive Two Wheels

A memoir-like piece recalling the fondness obtained in "cycling"

    ...And it recalled how, for the most part, cycling had brought me a sense of joy I never quite experienced in either soccer playing or football kicking. Sure, punting a football only to see it gracefully spin through the air and land about 40 yard away was and will always remain a cool feat. I get that.

           

A moment later, another set of thoughts hit me (in my continuous flow of thinking). Cycling is another arena of a sporting activity altogether. It’s in its own universe and world of athletic existence, really and truly.

When I cycled, I remember living in unison with my, admittedly, great sense and need for independence, pedaling my ways across the roads and round the turns, up ascents and down descents alike.

The cool feeling of a breeze zipping around and past my body was another great sensation that could only be felt in those moments.

Having and wearing the gear, from the cycling bibs to the jerseys and protective gloves, to wearing my contacts covered by shades to loading up on fruit energy chews and bars, and ensuring I had bottled hydration along with me, all of that made my cycling experiences my own. In ways, I knew how to train on my own; and what it was to ride with a group, large or small. I knew my body, its strengths and weaknesses. And I also knew how to manage myself better, with a stronger sense (I suppose) of responsibility and self-care, time management and purpose. Cycling teaches you those things.

It also teaches the greater importance of self-acceptance and self-identity.

Cycling is one of those individualized sports and sporting activities where, in plain honesty, you either grow to love it or you have no interest in it.

Taking this perspective, it’s true: when pursuing the realm of road bikes (compared to mountain or hybrid styles of riding), no rationale thinking, common sense person would dare consider easily spending a minimum of $1,000 for a new, standards-based road bicycle, all the equipment needed and the constant replenishing expenses towards nutrition, hydration & bicycle maintenance upkeep if they “weren’t that into it.” No one would do that. There has to, or would have to, be something there for a person to want to commit that amount of money to a sporting activity like cycling. Because, let’s face it: cycling is an expensive sport. It’s just not buy-a-pair-of-10-socks-for-12-bucks-for-5-years kind of sport. No. It’s drop-$2,000-on-a-new-bike-and-keep-adding-to-the-ongoing-bill kind of sport. As in it’s an entirely different league of its own in terms of financial investment; because that’s, essentially, what it is: a financial investment. Except the individual is not investing in a house. Nor are they investing in some companies’ stock to maintain some printed aspect of wealth should things for them ever go south.

They are investing in their health, constructively, actively and with much commitment. And, at least now during this global pandemic that is C.O.V.I.D.-19, perhaps the muscles making up my figure and part of my brain that misses the natural dopamine endorphins that are released during my 1 ½ - 3 hour rides misses all those things. Or at least almost all of it.

I’ll never quite forget that one afternoon at ATX Bikes, though, for what it was. The same guys whom had helped provide proper maintenance and repairs for my Specialized Roubaix wheels gave me the same, sideways bewildered looks. They couldn’t quite understand how a younger guy would rather sell his bike than keep and continue to ride it. (As a side note, I told them it was a financial decision rather than a personal or sporting one.) They didn’t respond; being business working folk, they didn’t have to. My decisions were not their concern. (As a “small consolation”, I did tell them that in the near future when my circumstances and overall financial life was better intact I would return to the world of two wheels and riding.) But I knew, in my gut way deep down, what I was really trying to say.

I had come to terms with the fact that my days in cleats and shin guards were over; my brain didn’t operate that way. The days of kicking the ball through the inside of the two uprights had also passed as they were never meant to be my greatest talent, natural or developed; not really, anyway. However, the days of me learning to ride a road bike and all the cool features, benefits and highlights that came with it had only, in a way, just begun. How did I know that? My muscles hurt less, my spirit felt more uplifted as I was enjoying myself more, and I found something I could make my own for years to come. As I once wrote, cycling found me. I did not go looking for it.

Where my right foot cringed and tingled with pain (as of this morning) from punting a football barely 30-40 yards or so and where my muscle coordination and further skill sets just did not exist as they “needed” to with a spherical ball at my feet, I knew once that me sitting atop a bicycle seat�"“the saddle”�"holding onto steering handles (drop bars) and pushing & grinding through the pedaling motions with my clip-on shoes cradling my feet was where I was called. Because I felt it....

Author's Note

This is part of my daily reflection log I keep. I felt good about what I wrote and how I wrote it and, therefore, decided to post part of it here. It is by no means a perfect piece nor am I expecting 5-golden stars for it from readers. I simply wanted to post it because I felt good about it. That's all.