The Contexts In Which We Ride
The climb feels like one of those roads you would see watching a Grand Tour on television or in a cycling magazine. A steep pitch takes me up and out of a dark forested gulch. After the grind comes glory.
The width of the road is ten feet, if that. Trees hangover, and there’s a white picket fence on the right hand side. Tall grass borders the edge of the pavement; on days like today, after a little rain when the sun sneaks through a selection of clouds in the sky, shining just right, the grass seems greener than it should be.
It’s up here, my heart pounding and lungs burning as I crest the top of the hill, that I can finally think clearly. I don’t have to tell you what’s going on in the world. After becoming glued to the computer screen reading news and social media, riding my bike seems to take on a new meaning.
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I often think about the contexts of daily activities, like going to the grocery store. A mundane trip to the grocery store is not exactly riveting. You might buy some meat, stock up on essentials like eggs or milk, and grab some snacks for work. But when you go to the grocery store because you’re planning an elaborate barbeque celebration party is quite fun. Going to a coffee shop near work for a quick lunch is fairly ordinary. Going to a coffee shop in your free time for a cappuccino and cookie? Delightful!
All that has changed in the above situations are the contexts in which the activities occur. Our daily lives are filled with context that change how we perceive such activities and how we perceive our days overall.
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Nearing the end of my ride, I turn off into some singletrack, still moist from the rain but not too much. Flowing through the woods, turning over the pedals, it all feels different based on what’s going on in the world. I go down a trail I never have gone down before—only up it. Hopping off little rises on the trail brings short moments of joy.
I’m out in the open now, overlooking my hometown below. I sprint towards a corner, pushing into the hero dirt knowing it will hold me upright.
It’s only an hour and a half escape from the context of our current life. It sure felt glorious.