I was reminded the other night of one of my favorite things about cycling compared to other sports. I was driving to the store and came up behind a guy on a bike. Initially, I was kind of annoyed -- he was a classic cycle ninja, riding after dark in dark clothes with no lights, his spinning pedal reflectors the only obvious indication that he was there.
I was about to make a right turn, so I slowed down -- didn't want the bad karma of "pass followed by immediate right." And, being a bike nerd, I watched him while I waited. He was a college kid (sheesh, old man, people in college are now "kids"?) on an old ten-speed, sneakers without socks, long baggy basketball shorts, t-shirt, backpack. Built kind of like my dad... heavy-set, stumpy little legs, long torso. Nothing about this guy screamed "athlete" at me, let alone "cyclist."
But here's the thing: This guy had the smoothest, most elegant, most effortless looking pedal stroke I'd seen in a long time. He wasn't moving all that fast, but talk about making circles. I think the French word for it is "souplesse." It was a master class in turning pedals.
That, to me, is what makes cycling great. So many other sports have terribly high barriers to elegant entry. When I go running, it looks like I'm having a seizure in (very) slow motion. Swimming for me is a frantic exercise in not drowning. Combine me with pretty much any sport involving a ball or a stick and you'll get a laughable demonstration of just how uncoordinated the human body can be. I was quasi-decent in football as an offensive lineman when I just had to take a couple steps and run into someone, but if I had to pull and deliver a lead block on a sweep? Forget about it.
On a bike, however, just about anyone can give the impression that they know what they're doing. My dad -- whose genes are primarily responsible for the comedy of errors described above -- could do a cowboy-mount into clipless pedals that was like fat-man bicycle ballet. When I sprint through downtown and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the plate glass windows, I think, "geez, THAT guy looks good on a bike." My grandparents could handle a two-ton Schwinn tandem like they were of one mind. None of us were "taught" by experienced cyclists. We just rode a lot, and -- I suspect -- some of the elegance of the machine rubbed off.
In an era where we spend so much of our work time sitting on our backsides and working on computers, bikes offer some of us a chance to engage in a real activity. A chance to sweat, strain, breath deeply, and even challenge our reflexes by balancing a bike while dodging potholes and cars. If you do this enough, these activities become subconscious and refined and reward the cyclist with some sense of grace and achievement.
ReplyDeleteI just returned from about 7 hours of grace and achievement (sort of). A nice long ride with friends on a sunny, crisp early October day... does life get any better??*
Steve in Peoria
*only if the ride doesn't end in a flat tire like today. :-P