Monday, January 25, 2016

anti anhedonia

I haven't ridden my bicycle since november. two long months ago.
perhaps that's why I've been in a slump.
the blues, lethargy, anhedonia*.

instead of splashing creeks, crisp air, chattering squirrels and birds, soaring hawks, wide-eyed deer, the kiss of sun and the cooling rush of air, I've been sitting on an uncomfortable saddle (which some describe as the head of a shovel) in a rectangular room with tinted windows, rubber mat flooring, while listening to someone else's (sometimes great, sometimes not so great) playlist.

I want my bicycle back.

because with it comes inspiration, exhaustion, rejuvenation.
peace, effort, exhilaration, joy, pleasure, playfulness, accomplishment, fear and fearlessness.
swooping.
delight.
achievement.

in the spin room I have camaraderie, shared pain, heat, sweaty towels, and cyclists in front of me I can never catch. (on the other hand, neither am I ever dropped by them.) I have a fan for a tailwind.

yesterday I hiked in the snow. I walked for miles along the pipeline, a favorite mountain-biking trail for many locals. thick with snow, it traverses the mountainsides high above millcreek canyon road, edged at times by rough rocks, canopied at times by scrub oak, often completely exposed, a narrow track cut into a sloping hillside. the drop-off, at those exposed sections, is vast and steep, and I do best to keep my eyes averted.
as I plodded through newly fallen snow, ice crusting my hat, my boots water logged, I longed for the speed of my bicycle, its ability to take me from one place to another in that perfectly paced span of time.
I thought about a fat-tired bike. each time I skate ski on my favorite road that leads up big mountain, I see men on fat-tired bikes, riding on the snow.
I tried to picture myself, riding the snowy pipeline trail on a big, fat-tired bike.
I smiled.
it cheered me up.
however, I think I'll have to patiently wait for a dry day, a sunny day, when the snow and ice have pulled back from the bike lanes, the snowmelt keeps to the edges, and the bicycle gods whisper in my ear,
come play.


*anhedonia the loss of interest in previously rewarding or enjoyable activities

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