Biking Clearly

The past few days have been home to both some of the more challenging and more rewarding parts of the trip so far. We have ridden over 150 miles in the past two days, and we have tacked well over 4,500 vertical feet in those days, as well. Starting out of Poughkeepsie, we rode over the Hudson river on a newly opened suspension bridge, before cruising through New Paltz straight towards the base of a mountain. This was our first real mountain challenge--a climb of over 1,000 feet spread out over six or so miles. The grueling pace slowed down many riders, but finally reaching the top rewarded us with an unparalleled view. From the far side of the mountain you could see for miles over rolling hills, into valleys, and across the crests of other mountains. Biking over a mountain very physically reinforces the kind of challenge/reward system that works in other aspects of life, and embodies the values our parents insist we take to heart. Work hard, they say, because the payoff will be worth all the sacrifice. Get a well-paying job so that you can better enjoy the time you're not at work; study hard in school so that you can get by more easily; train diligently in your sport so that your successes come more frequently.

Naturally, it is not simply that a challenge should be endured or survived. Indeed, if that were the case, then reward might actually come from a lack of effort, an avoidance of that which is difficult. Instead, the reward is a result of the very things it took to endure the challenge. The grit, the determination, the pain, the suffering... all of these things create the reward, they are the reward for completing the challenge. Of course, it is natural to struggle under duress; it is natural to lose one's clarity when faced with an obstacle. If this happens, then we have to wonder, at what point does this struggle become a reward? When is it that I stop feeling defeated, and begin to feel as though I am going to leave this situation a better person? Admittedly, when I find myself in these situations (say, when climbing a mountain), I begin to think about the same things. I begin to doubt my strength, my training, my ambition. To think about these things is natural, but to give into them is defeat. So when I am struggling, I struggle to think clearly; I try to recognize my ambition, my training, my strength. I try to let the bike carry me forward instead of pounding it, one pedal at a time, into the earth. There are a number of things that can cloud your vision when biking uphill--fear, doubt and anger are just a few-- and none of these things will help you to get to the summit. So it is necessary to press them out of your mind. Recognize them, but press them out of your mind. It is a biking meditation, carrying you forward to the clarity and nirvana of an effortless descent.