Sooooo I like writing blogs alot. So I decided to do it again! Yaaaaay. So today, I wanted to explain a thing that might assuage spme worries, or cause some. I dunno. Theres a simple fact that needs sharing, to begin.
I like going fast. I like to feel the air in my hair and between my fingers, I like to feel it push against me and know that its there. I like to feel forces acting on my body, and I like to know what to do about them. I like wheels. I like sliding. And after a day of thinking, I think I know why.
Heresy. A human is only really designed to go about fifteen miles an hour. We're pretty squishy, and a fall from that speed will rough you up a bit. Interesting side note: a cheetah can sprint at about 62 miles per hour, but a human actually has a higher endurance than a cheetah, because of our superior cooling system, aka sweat. So yea. But anyway, we were really only designed for fifteenish miles an hour. Except we can break that. It is a heresy against nature, against design. We are breaking the rules. People wonder why I like to bike to school, even though I arrive sweaty, stinky, and usally either too cold or hot. There are several factors: its good for the health, it lets me know I'm alive, but the main reason isn't quite as highbrow as those. Even on a bad day, when my gloves are too thin and my fingers don't really work anymore, and I have a sharp-edged history textbook stabbing me, there is a certain section of greenway where it all falls away. No matter how tired my legs are, or how cold I am, it is heaven. I'm riding it right now, in my mind, every bump and corner perfectly preserved.
There is a speed limit on the greenway of ten miles per hour. I don't follow it. This section of greenway has long swooping turns, s-curves, and several 90° corners, and it is perfect. The world stops and adrenaline fills my blood and my legs are pistons and my chain is cranking and nuts and leaves are cracking under my wheels and it's like a grow fills my mind and the only thing there is is the determination to push a little harder. I don't think about my counter-steering and is my lean angle agressive enough for the next turn and what if my tire bursts in the middle of the corner and should I worry about that wet patch right there. I just know, just do what is needed. Sitting here on a very comfy sofa I know mentally what to do if i lose traction in a hard corner ( shift weight towards the wheel that still has traction, lift out of the lean and go straight, but don't brake, and get ready to fall. I can usually get it back though) but when it happens, I just act. I love it. And when I'm flying around corners I just act. If you stop to think about all the facets of riding a bike hard, you're too late and already running off the far side of the corner into a tree. You have to just act, and I love that. I pursue that feeling. I spend all day thinking and predicting and planning ahead and it is heaven to hve a task th only doesn't require planning, but does not permit it. I love feeling gravity and centrpetal force and accelertion and knowing exactly what to do with each nugget of info. And I love knowing that despite the fct that while in no way was I desgined to do this, it comes as easily to me as breathing. I love the fact that it is a heresy against nature, but at the same time I have the power with my pedals to warp time and space and leave the world behind.
I took a hard fall on a bike recently. I was on an empty greenway, going downhill, out of the saddle, and pedaling hard. I was flying. Then my chain got stuck and I was left off balance, unable to move my feet, and probably touching thirty. And I went down. Hard, and fast. It was like pedal pedal BAM ground. Slide slide slide. Oh crap theres a wall there. (Yea didn't mention that earlier) And then I was getting up. Don't remeber hitting the wall. But anyway I got a hefty scrape up probably a quarter of my forearm, and one about the size of an apple on my shoulder. And I tore my favorite jeans. I got up nd was afraid I had popped a rib into my lung, cause I was having trouble breathing on my right side, where I fell. But ypu know what? I'd take that fall again. I don't take pleasure in it, I don't like hurting my self, but nothing can be accomplished without pain. And I was flying. Andrenline was pumping, thoughts were left behind, and all that was left behind was action, reaction, the bike under my feet and the wind in my face. It was clarity. It was enlightenment. Some of you have seen my on my bike at school. One thing I always notice, is that when going slow, when hopping curbs and manuvering around people biking gets a lot harder. I get clumsy, and awkward. But when I charge off, it all falls into place. I can concertrate well enough, but I have never been able to concentrate on one thing 100%. There's always a bit of me pondering some other random thing. But when I ride hard on a bike, my mind is the domain of one thought and one thought alone: Go. Fast.
So it may not be safe. It may not be smart. But all things I know, of this I am sure. It is good. And so help me, I'm gonna go fast. I am going to find my Adrenaline and my Heresy.
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