Monday, March 8, 2010

With Respects to Thornton Wilder

In the play Our Town the character Emily says, "Oh, earth you're too beautiful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings realize life while they live it -- every, every minute?" I pondered these words as I commuted on my bike to work today and the meaning (or I should say in my oxygen deprived state, multiple meanings) started to turn over in my head to the rythm of my crankset.

First of all, you have to know that at the tender age of ten my daughter Sarah is a die-hard environmentalist. She has held "Save the Earth" parties for her birthday and she is raising money to replant the trees that have been chopped down on Main Street in the town where we live (see her website projectlemonaid.org for more on that). She is working on a project in her class to "adopt" a polar bear and track it. The joke around our house is whenever we see someone has left the lights on we say, " is killing the polar bears!" to indicate the waste of energy and the contribution to global warming.

That being said, this being the first truly warm commute morning of the season I was basking in the warmth that was coming down from above. Plants are starting to bud and even though there is ice on the ground (and in the pond I pass on the Stillwell climb) there is the sense of the earth waking up again after our bouts with "Snowmageddon". I found myself wondering, do people actually get to experience this when they're in their cars? Of course I know the obvious answer but as I kept pedaling along I found myself noticing the little things that so often go unnoticed.

I saw the squirrels running in the distance (of course I kept a wary eye out for them since I've heard too many drive-by squirreling stories) and the sound the leaves made as they rustled. I saw the dappling of the sun through the leaves. I saw the faint "thumbnail" of the moon that still glowed as I cranked up the slopes of Stillwell and I tried my hardest to take it all in. As much as I was focusing on my cadence (spinning up the slope, nice and smooth, high rpm, yada yada) I also tried to really SEE my ride for a change.

This got me to thinking. I (like many of you reading this) have logged many, many miles on my faithful steed. I see all sorts of things but I sort of let them wash over me in my zeal to pedal faster or more efficiently. I think as cyclists we sometimes get a little "blindered" to what's going on around us and we forget that the way we travel puts us more in tune with the earth than our metal clad brethren (or sistren) and we should take a moment or two on every ride we do - no matter the conditions or the purpose - to try to fully and consciously acknowledge that. Even if its just to acknowledge a rider going the other direction with a simple raise of the hand.

I will be riding this year to help the children at Sunrise Day Camp have the opportunity to attend camp for the summer. I know there will be times that some of them will be very weak from their treatments and won't be able to physically do a lot of the things they love to do - like ride their bikes. So for now, when I ride I will think about them and ride for those who can't now ride or ride in the future. And every time I ride I'm going to try to find the time to truly and really enjoy that moment of the ride without thinking about tactics, cadence, rpm, heart rate or any of the other competitive parts of riding. Just ride, just feel, just realize in honor of those kids who can't.

Through Connorsarmy.org we've already started registering riders for the Third Annual Victory Ride to help these kids, so if you haven't already, register to join us - even if you do it in the comfort of your environs. Whatever you do, when you ride for those kids try to enjoy it - "every, every minute".

Stay well and well see you on the road.

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