My Cycle

by Alex Stevenson

For me, biking has changed my life in ways I would have never imagined. Years ago, when I started it was an outlet for my built up energy as well as a passage to an alternate reality. When you are out on a bike ride you escape from everything that is not directly related to the exact moment and place that you may be. It serves me as a means for ultimate freedom; because it is only me, my bike and unlimited possibilities of where I can go and explore. This sport offers me many new doors to move through by not limiting me to where the roads go or where cars or even walking can take me. Not only does biking liberate the consciousness, but it works the body. It is a physically demanding task, but once it is commenced it only gets easier. The ability to not depend on anything but my body and my bike is one of the greatest feelings one can have. The fact that it is possible for me to get to school faster than cars each day makes the pleasures of riding all the more enjoyable.

My passion for this phenomenal sport, and way of life, is rooted in my early childhood. I can recount memories of my family and I taking trips to the local marina; Cesar Chavez park. I can distinctly remember the time when my father allowed me to circumnavigate the small, 100 meter loop around the hill at the far north corner of the park (that used to have the little fishing boat on top of it). I misunderstood him and mistakenly rode around the entire park which totaled a length of three miles. He scolded me for not comprehending his simple instruction, but that never phased me to slow down or ever stop riding. An even earlier memory goes back to when I was just learning to ride a bike. My father had taken me to the southern end of Cesar Chavez Park, where the “Adventure Playground” is to practice riding. I remember heading toward the restaurant on the water while my dad was pushing and balancing me on the bike. He let go and off I went. I kept riding around for many minutes and exploring the whole area. It was a fantastic day and all the suicidal ground squirrels were darting in front of my bike. I rode in a circle and past the spot from which I stated and I felt a massive force from behind slow me to a stand still. My dad had run after me and grabbed my seat to bring me to a stop, and commenced yet another scolding about how I shouldn’t have ridden through the parking lot because it was so dangerous. This memory is so tangible and I can see it so vividly that I can view the entire scenario in third person and from my dads' vantage point. This event remains burned into my memory because of the intense emotion my dads’ reaction delivered to my psyche. This sticks with me, not only because my father made me cry and feel terrible out of love and the protection for me, but also because it demonstrates my unstoppable thirst for adventure and freedom, that can be delivered in the form of a bicycle.

A bicycle is a magical machine that transforms human power with leverage, traction and centrifugal force. But the truly phenomenal thing about them is that you don’t need to understand how they work to enjoy them, because they are so fun to ride; it’s like floating over the ground and leaning into an alternate state of consciousness. They are perfect for people of all ages because one can be entertained for extended amounts of time, get exercise, and achieve a mindset for balance. Many children learn to ride a bike during early stages of development. They start learning valuable lessons early to ensure they stick with them like adhesive. There is a heavy reverence for safety in the cycling community, and it is essential that children quickly learn how to properly protect themselves from danger in this sharp world. They also grow from the independence they experience from the mechanical mobility of riding a bike. Once this realm of freedom is old and known, it is often abandoned. Few people hold on to and cherish the familiar feeling of riding a bike. These people sustain a sentiment for their childhood, and attain comfort from the simple act of riding a bike. What is then grown from this is a nostalgic appreciation for this mode of transportation, and all that it represents. This appreciation brings about a consciousness of self, because you’re so involved in the act and it requires an input of energy from many sources. You need to be mentally present while riding a bike, as well as physically up to the task of moving your body weight. One must also hydrate and fuel their bodies with proper nutrition. Bike racers whom are training must be able to set goals, be self disciplined and manage emotions. An avid cyclist will incorporate all these fundamentals into their daily lives. These practices lead to a healthy living and independence. Using these skills that you attain from biking they can help you positively view your self without criticism. You can be free of judgmental thinking that can ultimately enslave you. The growth in my mentality has been enriched because of cycling; it has flourished to a new level of the podium, where I am on top.

There are early memories that go hand in hand with learning to ride a bike, like the sense of family and togetherness. This is often faded out by the years of adolescence; which is mostly the teen wanting to assert independence. The bike represents the unconscious desire for happiness, which is ultimately freedom. These new realms of consciousness are unknown, foreign and naturally scary. We as humans have evolved to resist change because of the fear that has coalesced with what is alien. Even parents are fearful for their children to change, or grow up. Evolution is a necessary catalyst for progress. All people have and choose different paths to advancement. In some sense, one could say that progress or evolution is conformity; (if done within the same contexts). Society could be describes as a medium for growth. Many people mark the time of their life where they finally grow up, as the time they get their license. For those who don’t have to borrow their parents’ car, they are now free to go anywhere. They are now independent of public transportation and getting rides from their guardians. This is their ticket to freedom. Although they can still go anywhere in the landmass, they now are enslaved by the responsibility of the car itself, as well as insurance, gas and future tickets. I see owning a car not as freedom but as the opposite- a bondage to cars and all of their finicky maintenance, finding parking spaces, expensive fuel, the laziness that comes with driving and a dependence on an expensive set of wheels used to replace my legs. Today in most modern cultures, especially in American society, infrastructure, jobs, transportation and much of daily life revolves around the use and dependence on automobiles. Many generations, including my own, have grown up with this culture of cars. For most teenagers, the moment when they receive their drivers’ license they feel so liberated, it’s almost as if they have no dependence on anyone or anything. Driving is often considered to be associated with maturity. In American society, when we mature we are losing freedom so rapidly we hardly have any time to notice because our lives are so consumed with distractions. You get a car, you then need insurance, and then a job to pat for all these things. But you can now only maybe get a decent job with a college education. In orders to get this basic operational necessity, you have to take out a lone that you will then spend the rest of your youth working off the debt. You definitely need a car to be able to succeed in life, or so we are meant to believe. People feel a need to have a car, and are held captive to their sense of helplessness in the absence of an automobile.

The anxiety I felt before my first race was that of a patient before a major surgery. That entire morning was felt through my stomach; being ravaged by ferocious butterflies. It felt as if my entire life had only been preparation for this single event. Even as I look back on this two hour span of almost indescribable intensity my blood starts to surge. The memory of this one happening is enough to make me feel nervous and “adrenalated”.

The exact moment I exploded past the threshold, into a new realm of life, was the same moment I left the starting-line. I was transformed into a new person, (even if I didn’t know it at the time); freer and more alive than ever before. I shared these similar emotions years before; when I first departed from the bolstering stability given to me by my fathers’ arms. These two moments in time where one in the same; metamorphoses from one state to another. With every foot I rolled from that threshold, I came closer to a new Me. I am evolving, just as I was during these two periods of pupation. Everyone and everything is changing, growing from the support of the past. Cycling allows as well as assists you in growing to reach new levels of being. You can slowly walk, to advancement, up the mountain that is your life, but riding a bike will always get you there faster.

I can place my self in the same position I was in during that race. I had gotten to the starting line late, and was unable to get a good spot up in front of all the other riders. I had a bit of trouble getting my foot to clip into my right pedal after I pushed off the ground. But I was finally racing, and I was so heavily high on adrenaline I was flying. I sprinted past a racer, and then another one, and at this point I was right in the middle of the pack of forty riders. I found my opening; it was a gap in the riders ahead of me, and I pounced on the opportunity. I dug in and zoomed past him, and before I knew it I was in front of the whole pelaton. I now found my comfortable zone and stayed with the first three guys. We just finished the first section on the road and we were leading the group onto the single-track. This was when most of my endorphins wore off and I began to hurt all over. This was also a moment of clarity when I realized that I was racing, and I started to enjoy the trail for all its sandy, smooth and curvy glory. When you are riding like this, you lose all your time perception. By the time I was done with my first lap of six miles, it had felt like an hour had passed. I was only half done, and I wanted to fall over and die. Stopping was never an option, and I just had to suffer for another twenty minutes. This is really hard to tell yourself, and that’s why you need a lot of mental focus to race. By the time I was halfway through my second lap, I was smashing along, and to my amazement I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was my teammate, Joel, and I couldn’t tell him how happy I was to see another friend on that sweaty battlefield called race number one. We came into the pit zone together and finished at the same time. I still wouldn’t believe anything my friends and coaches said about how I placed, because they all said something different. I was amazed when I looked at the preliminary results that were posted, I had gotten third place out of thirty riders at my first race. I jumped with joy and shouted in excitement, but my legs were on the verge of seizing up with cramps and I suffered a massive coughing fit due to the excessive amount of dust I swallowed, but nonetheless I felt good on the inside.

Bio

Xlea has lived in berkeley all his or her life. They wish to study psychology and possibly race professionally. His or her current ambitions include; making it through the school day and food.