Summer cycling has ended. According to Mission Control, the tracking system on my Specialized e-assist bike – I covered almost 385 miles and climbed just over 20,000 feet during the month of August. Since buying this bike last September, I’ve clocked 1,595 miles, and not including the times I forgot to hit “Record”.
Why? I realize that some may wonder why I cycle so much.
It’s a valid question I find myself asking as well and I don’t always have a
satisfying response.
I suppose on a bike, the breeze in
my face, on city streets, rural roads, or trails, I see the world around me
in a manner different from either walking or driving. In an odd way, it’s a bit
like wandering the foothills of Issaquah Valley on the horses of my childhood.
I also enjoy the camaraderie of other women cyclists, women I ride with through sun and rain, good
times and not so good. Each ride is different and never quite what I expected.
Case in point, I worried that we’d face high temperatures and possible forest
fire smoke during my last organized ride of the summer, the 210-mile ride from
Seattle to Vancouver called RSVP. Instead, it rained non-stop, letting up as we
crossed into Canada.
I credit cycling for pulling me
out of my pandemic slump, from the physical and emotional quagmire I allowed
myself to sink into for longer than a healthy lifestyle allows. I had to find a
way out, a route back to myself. I knew exercise, for me cycling, was the
ticket.
Ten years earlier I had trained
with a former work colleague. She was an experienced cyclist, quite the
opposite of my newbie status. We were turning sixty within a month of each
other and decided to do RSVP to commemorate the occasion. I met that goal head
on and rejoiced by suggesting we do it again for our seventieth. “But next
time,” I said, “We’ll do it on e-assist bikes.” That was 2014.
I continued to cycle, though not
at the same level of intensity, through 2017 when I rode Obliteride, a 100-mile
ride to support Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research. Then I hit a wall. I was
physically exhausted and simply couldn’t keep up with my friends. Holding them
back, feeling like the weak link, was emotionally draining. I stopped cycling
but for short neighborhood rides. Then COVID hit.