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The very reason i rode was pretty simple, it made me feel better than this flesh and bones body that the world sees me in. It made me feel better about myself when i geared up and went for a ride. Any ride be it to the general store to get a loaf of bread or the one to the nearby hill was treated with the same child like excitement as the first time I swung a leg on my first bicycle.
It would be inaccurate to say i loved my bike or that i loved biking. The truth is I loved myself while biking. The by product was that I took care of my bike, wore proper gear all the time to look cool, and most of all also took care of my body to face the strains of long distance riding. Most of this happened involuntarily and projected an image of me to my near and dear ones as that of a "biker". I couldnt have been more proud. For someone who has failed spectacularly in almost everything I put my heart in, this was one of those things which strangely enough I succeeded at without wanting it, but I still welcomed it.
I was never exceptionally skilled at it, never did any knee downs, never drag raced on the street or track, never wheelied to impress anyone, and faced a few accidents over the course of riding for 12 years. In simple terms I was as average as an average Joe can get. Of course I escaped that feeling when i was on my bike.
I have a regular paper pushing job which was something i never imagined I would do as a kid. I have an average looking flat which was another thing I never imagined i would live in, I had an above average looking life which was something I fooled myself into believing every time i rode.
So why would someone like me give up biking? Anyone who has ever rode would know that tremor you get in your hands after you get up from an accident or after completing a top speed run. The latter boosts you whereas the former diminishes your spirits for a while. One thing which gives a biker the permanent shivers though is "regret". I have not been a god fearing person, but after I got married i got an overwhelming sense of responsibility towards my better half. I started worrying about what would happen if... As if the universe wanted to echo my thoughts, some astrologers who my mother and wife both believe in, predicted that I will meet my doom in the next year unless i stopped riding.
Anyone modern educated person faced with this conclusion would mostly laugh it off and perhaps even forget about it. But for me, a confused atheist, it for some reason returned that shiver in my hand. I am no hero, but i always told myself, I would rather die than give up on the one thing that accepted me. However, women have a way of complicating things. In this case my love for her, made me give up my love for myself. In what was a numb experience I handed over the keys to my closest friend who has less biking experience than me but is much better at it than I will ever be. I did not want to make money off it and I gave it away. You dont sell an experience.
Its been 2 months and i now drive to work, feeling 10 years older than i did. My paunch has grown and my car seems to accentuate it. I have stopped taking care of my body, and yes I have stopped loving myself. I am not in depression and I am definitely not contemplating the higher meaning of life. I am simply a man who has been separated from his bike and from everything good and interesting in himself. I keep reading blogs of other people's biking experiences and try to live in those pictures. I visit those places in my head from another rider's eyes. I try to be something more than this shell I feel is swallowing me.
I wish i could be less dramatic but you dont ride because you are low on emotion. You ride because you are high on it and want to feel everything with more intensity. I dont blame my family, my astrologer, my life or your God. I have gotten it far better than most ever will. In fact I dont blame anyone at all. I just wish something would lie to me as convincingly that i am more than what you perceive me, as riding did once.
I always forgive, I just wish with all my heart that i could forget.
Moderators : please delete if this is irrelevant.
It would be inaccurate to say i loved my bike or that i loved biking. The truth is I loved myself while biking. The by product was that I took care of my bike, wore proper gear all the time to look cool, and most of all also took care of my body to face the strains of long distance riding. Most of this happened involuntarily and projected an image of me to my near and dear ones as that of a "biker". I couldnt have been more proud. For someone who has failed spectacularly in almost everything I put my heart in, this was one of those things which strangely enough I succeeded at without wanting it, but I still welcomed it.
I was never exceptionally skilled at it, never did any knee downs, never drag raced on the street or track, never wheelied to impress anyone, and faced a few accidents over the course of riding for 12 years. In simple terms I was as average as an average Joe can get. Of course I escaped that feeling when i was on my bike.
I have a regular paper pushing job which was something i never imagined I would do as a kid. I have an average looking flat which was another thing I never imagined i would live in, I had an above average looking life which was something I fooled myself into believing every time i rode.
So why would someone like me give up biking? Anyone who has ever rode would know that tremor you get in your hands after you get up from an accident or after completing a top speed run. The latter boosts you whereas the former diminishes your spirits for a while. One thing which gives a biker the permanent shivers though is "regret". I have not been a god fearing person, but after I got married i got an overwhelming sense of responsibility towards my better half. I started worrying about what would happen if... As if the universe wanted to echo my thoughts, some astrologers who my mother and wife both believe in, predicted that I will meet my doom in the next year unless i stopped riding.
Anyone modern educated person faced with this conclusion would mostly laugh it off and perhaps even forget about it. But for me, a confused atheist, it for some reason returned that shiver in my hand. I am no hero, but i always told myself, I would rather die than give up on the one thing that accepted me. However, women have a way of complicating things. In this case my love for her, made me give up my love for myself. In what was a numb experience I handed over the keys to my closest friend who has less biking experience than me but is much better at it than I will ever be. I did not want to make money off it and I gave it away. You dont sell an experience.
Its been 2 months and i now drive to work, feeling 10 years older than i did. My paunch has grown and my car seems to accentuate it. I have stopped taking care of my body, and yes I have stopped loving myself. I am not in depression and I am definitely not contemplating the higher meaning of life. I am simply a man who has been separated from his bike and from everything good and interesting in himself. I keep reading blogs of other people's biking experiences and try to live in those pictures. I visit those places in my head from another rider's eyes. I try to be something more than this shell I feel is swallowing me.
I wish i could be less dramatic but you dont ride because you are low on emotion. You ride because you are high on it and want to feel everything with more intensity. I dont blame my family, my astrologer, my life or your God. I have gotten it far better than most ever will. In fact I dont blame anyone at all. I just wish something would lie to me as convincingly that i am more than what you perceive me, as riding did once.
I always forgive, I just wish with all my heart that i could forget.
Moderators : please delete if this is irrelevant.
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