Lessons From a Bike Ride

There are two kinds of hills on my morning bike rides. 

There's one that's a short but intensely steep climb. Yesterday, I had to stand up on my pedals to make it to the top, and when I got there, a jogger cheered for me, impressed that I made it all the way.

The other is the long, steady incline that gets me home. I made it to the top of that one, too, but there was no one there to cheer for me or be impressed by me.

I've been thinking about those two hills while I continue to process the words of Brendan Kiely and Jason Reynolds during Sunday's The Author Village livestream, especially the comparison of living with my own racism to an addict living with their addiction. An alcoholic's work is never complete. They are never not an alcoholic. Every day is a long, steady incline. The same is true of my racism. I can't expect to get to the top of one steep climb (with cheerleaders at the top) and be done. Every day I need to wake up asking myself, "What will you do today to recognize and correct your own racism and the racism of the society in which you live?"

There are two kinds of hills on my morning bike rides.

Both kinds of hills will make me a stronger biker. There are also long sections where the way is flat and the riding is easy. I will not let those parts make me complacent. I will not seek out rides that are completely level. Because, while I know that

there are two kinds of hills on my morning bike rides,

I also know that there are mountains out there to scale as well. Let's get going.

Yet Another Lesson From a Bike Ride

The other Lessons From Bike Rides are here

I walked up to the door of the health club and saw the sign: Pool Closed for Repairs. There went my Sunday and Wednesday swims for the next 10 days.

As I turned around and headed back to the car, I was thankful for the nice weather. I would take a bike ride instead of swimming.

The Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (she'll be a featured speaker at NCTE this year--SO excited!!) warned of the danger of a single story in her TED talk. What I realized in that moment when I turned away from a swim and toward a bike ride is the danger of a single EXERCISE story. We should always make sure we have options. Otherwise, if there is a time when we can't do THIS, we will have no THAT to turn to.

The bigger lesson is about diversification. It is good to have lots of <that> in my life so when <this> isn't possible, I've got plenty of options.

Another Lesson From a Bike Ride

It was my longest bike ride so far this summer. We went all the way from home to beyond the Scioto Mile downtown, to the Scioto Audubon Metropark. About 25 miles round trip. I felt strong almost all the way, but I knew that when we turned off the bike path at the Broadmeadows bridge over the Olentangy River, what would remain was a long grueling uphill ride to home.

As we approached the Broadmeadows bridge, I talked to myself. "You've got this! Push through! Finish strong!"

I probably could have made it all the way home without walking. But it also occurred to me that "finish strong" doesn't have to mean "finish without taking a break." Perhaps my finish could be stronger and more satisfying if I got off my bike, stretched a bit, walked a bit, and had a drink of water before I attacked that final hill.

I took a break. And then I really did finish strong. Stronger than if I had tried to slog through without resting.

And there's the lesson. This school year, when it all gets to be too much and what comes next is a grueling uphill climb, let's remember to take a break so that we can get to the top of every hill still feeling strong.

Lessons From A Bike Ride

I went for a bike ride this morning before it got too hot. I labored up a long, grueling hill with my eyes on the bit of the street just in front of my front tire. In the nick of time, I looked up and avoided a low-hanging tree branch that would certainly have smacked me in the face.

This experience seems to be the perfect cautionary tale for the school year. At some point, the newness wears off and a week can start to feel like a long, grueling hill. With our heads down and our eyes focused on only what is right in front of us, we risk shortsightedness and a reactionary way of dealing with unexpected things that pop up. Let's remember to keep our heads up and our eyes on the long view, enjoying all of the scenery around us and watching for low hanging branches. Let's celebrate the hill rather than cursing it, knowing that we will be stronger when we get to the top.

Poetry Friday--Bike Ride Blessing 3.0--A Counting Out Rhyme

Bike Ride Blessing--A Counting Out Rhyme

One for the moon

in the morning sky,

two deer watching

as I ride by.

Three steep hills

to make me work,

paired with coasting--

that's the perk!

Four herds of runners

clog the path.

Ring my bell,

pedal past.

Three ponds total--

rising mists.

Two geese honking--

they insist:

One is presence,

patience, too.

Eyes and ears,

one is you.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2017

Three Saturday morning bike rides three weeks in a row--that's a celebration even without three Bike Ride Blessing poems in a row! 

No bike ride this weekend. I'll be spending the weekend at the Ohio Casting for Recovery retreat, enjoying the company of 14 breast cancer survivors and a fabulous retreat team. I'm (new this year) Ohio's CfR co-coordinator as well as continuing in my role as knot-tying and fly fishing instructor.

Michelle has the roundup this week at Today's Little Ditty.