Coming Through

It would be easy to dislike E-bike riders, too easy. E-bike riders seem to have an affinity for stopping on the trail, which necessitates analog riders either getting off their bikes to shuffle around or calling “coming through.” As soon as the E-bike riders see that the “coming through” bicyclist is a somewhat chubbier than she should be old lady, they feel compelled to spring immediately upon their bicycles, push the assist gear to high, and zoom up behind. What’s an analog rider to do then? Push on and have a cardiac or get off their bike – again – to let the E-riders past? If you are an analog rider all the old proverbs about rolling stones gathering no moss and “… trust inertia, it is the greatest force in the world,” are ineluctably true, we want to keep our bicycles moving; it is much easier if we do.

Paddling last Sunday, one of the other paddlers noted that he only used his E-bike assist on the hills, which is really the only time you are doing anything much on a bicycle unless you are riding steep trails where you must poise spring like over your pedals with your muscles in an isometric contraction. This is analogous to saying, “I only use a motor on my kayak when I am paddling.” The machine is doing the bulk of the work! Pedalling on the flats or downhill is basically just spinning your legs around and reminds me of the rather useless device someone once gave my mother (sold every year by Aldi) wherein an “exerciser” sits on the couch and spins their legs about. I’m not sure a more useless piece of equipment has ever been invented; but I could be wrong.

Also on my Sunday paddle we were talking about how tough people were in earlier generations. We all know this, no “studies” are required. Before the industrial revolution the bulk of people were tough as nails because they had to be to survive. I am in the same boat as everyone else: I’m not tough either. Every time I go out and do something difficult I have to remind myself it won’t kill me and will, in all likelihood, make me a better person. But it’s seldom I don’t have to remind myself of these two facts: “it won’t kill you, you’ll probably be better.”

If we learn to speak positively about risk and difficulty and hard work, and we make doing so a habit, it completely changes our relationship to same, and we become different, more capable people. Our opportunities and trajectory are forever altered, and we aren’t as inclined to settle for less than our greatest potential.  Mark Twight.  Poison.