adventures in bicycling

A friend of mine is currently in Israel filming a documentary concerning the everyday lives of Israeli's and Palastinians amidst the ongoing conflict. As the three man crew are all avid cyclists, their only transportation across checkpoints and between town to town is bicycles. (http://www.epicpedal.org,%20www.epicpedal.blogspot.com/) The email update of their conversations with folks from both sides of the divide shows that though the physical journey is harrowing, it is nothing compared to the emotional whorlwind of hearing the life-journeys of enemy neighbors. Though he was not explicit on this point, I imagine the elements of cycling and listening reciprocally amplify the intensity of the experience. Lately, I've started to notice that there is something about riding a bicycle as a form of transportation that changes the way you live a day.

Since late April, I have traversed the 4 miles to and from work on my bike more days of the week than not. I only use my car on the weekend unless weather or scheduling does not permit. (This typically means rain, but lately, I've been thinking of adding expected highs of more than 105 degrees to the list.)

The impetus for this change of transport were many: save money by burning less fuel, get some exercise, and do a small thing to decrease the amount of waste and noxious stuff out their. In order to make this happen on a day to day basis, it requires some planning. I buy groceries for the entire week's breakfast and lunch on Saturday and store it in the office refrigerator. Also, I keep shower stuff in a locker at the campus gym so that I can shower before heading to the clinic to care for patients. More challenging is getting up a full hour before I normally would in order to get to the gym for a short workout and shower, and then pedaling home after an exceptionally exhausting day. Likewise, it's difficult to recover from mistakes such as forgetting socks (I've gone a few days without them) or to get home fast enough to clean up for a night out.

Some of the more interesting challenges come when rolling down the street. I've nearly been hit by people opening parked car doors. I've had a near collision with a walker who quickly manuvered in an attempt to avoid me in the same direction I steered to avoid her. The wind has been so strong at times that I've almost fallen over when riding up hill in 30+ mph gusts.

With all of these obstacles, I'm amazed that I saddle up every morning. However, I've noticed a change in me that makes these physical difficulties seem miniscule. For starters, biking creates a space to understand the relationship between physical effort and outcomes. Biking is a small way of seeing that muscles, lungs, and not simply my brain are important to participate in the provision of needs. Though technology and modern life has made many necessities readily avaliable at a moments notice, I'm not sure it's good for us. Humans for most of time have known what it is to wait on and tend to nature to create space for our presence, but in the US, with automobiles and corporate agriculture, we are able to separate labor from sustanance. Yes, we work to put food on a table, but in a knowledge society, I think we are missing out on a sort of intimacy with our daily bread that makes it easy to economically oppress others. Perhaps if we all had to bike to work we would sympathize a bit more with coffee growers in El Salvador, diamond extractors in Liberia, and the struggling farmers among us.

One's world becomes smaller on a bike, but also fuller. Essentially, biking slows and simplifies my life. The world of medical education mores extraordinarily fast. One of my best friends, weary in her studies, confessed that this life was too much for her, as her preferred pace of life was more consistent with watching the sprinkler shift in the backyard than running ragged to round on patients, then attend class, then meetings, then, then...etc. Perhaps there is a way that sprinkler watching or analagously mundane activities inform our experience of life. For me, 20 minutes of biking at dawn sets my expectations of the day. As long as I keep the wheels turning, then I'm moving. Sometimes there are downhills, when I coast, and sometimes there are hills I must push through. But, regardless, the speed I'm capable of on a bike allows me to see and experience the ride. Potholes rarely catch me off guard on a bike, nor do hills, and I'm able to drift in thought from casserole recipes to important conversations because the pace allows for it. In many ways, I've made my life to mimic this ride. I work only as hard as necessary in order to enjoy the experience rather than plow through every obstacle with the same rigor. Additionally, time has become both more and less important to me. Because biking takes longer, I have to plan to do certain things efficiently or not at all so that I can embrace the aspects of my life that have meaning to me. Prioritizing and expecting more from my experiences have changed the way I approach each day. There's little to be done about the demands from others, but we each can consciously choose to slow and simplify life.

Finally, biking makes me happy. The wind in my face is so much more refreshing than recycled air from a car AC. I love feeling strong and healthy. Local residence has begun to wave each morning as we pass each other along our way. And, lets face it, biking is "so in right now." It's novel and admired, and I think, along with my buddy in Isreal, that it can do a part in changing the way things are done for the better.