Zen and the Art of Bicycle Maintenance

Despite a beautiful morning of chilly temps and (finally!) clear skies yesterday, it was clear before many miles had elapsed that the legs were just not answering the call. Even a stop for a bit of tasty joe to jump-start the neurons didn't do the trick.

I climbed Cave Hill Road in Leverett, the first real ascent I had planned. At the top, I was knackered, so I decided to toss the route for the day and do a long-awaited detour. Right at the apex of the hill, there's a sign for the New England Peace Pagoda, a widely-known worship site for Buddhists and seekers around the country. I'd topped this hill so many times, but never ventured off the road and up the steep trail to the very tippy-top, where devotees have created, I discovered, a small paradise.

The pagoda peeks through the trees on the trail

It's size and sparkling facade make a strong impression 

Walking around back reveals niches in which the Buddha does his thing...

...which seems to include taking a nap. Now there's a path I can get with!

Prayer flags snap in the wind everywhere on the idyllic grounds

A peaceful rock garden has patterns raked into the white pebbles

Many paths, one goal. I often travel my path by bicycle.

After snapping the photo above, I sat to do a bit of meditation in the warm sun. About five minutes in, just as my nervous system was hitting the peace groove, I heard a loud crash and opened my eyes to see my bike blown over by the wind (or a trickster deity; I'm still not sure). I had to bust out the multi-tool and do some surgery on the rear derailleur right there by the rock garden. I tried to work as meditatively as I could. 

I think the lesson was something along the lines of, "Mindfulness includes propping up your bike carefully, Grasshopper."

Yoga: The Ultimate Cross-Training

I do yoga.

There, I said it.

That's right, I'm one of those sensitive, New-Age guys. I've studied and/or practiced yoga for 17 years now. I liked it from the first day I tried it. It started with the fact that I simply enjoy the challenge of actually doing the poses. For those who haven't tried it because you think it's wimpy, I guarantee you that yoga is a lot more physically challenging than you think. It's far more than simply "stretching" or "holding a pose." There's no way to fully describe the physical challenge. Suffice to say, it works you out so deep in your muscles, you've never experienced anything like it.

On top of the pleasure of that challenge, it boasts an impressive list of physical benefits:

- Increased overall strength
- Greatly increased core strength
- Healthier and more effective lungs, organs and glands

- Decrease in physical tension (including headaches, back problems, etc.)
- It's weight-bearing, so you get healthier bones in the deal
- Increased flexibility and protection from injury in sports

- Improved balance and physical grace

- Improved posture
- Development of the entire body, inside and out, as a balanced system. It's cross-training on the uber level.

Almost every one of these is a benefit that most serious cyclists avidly pursue to improve their overall training.

There are plenty of cycling-specific ways to strengthen oneself through yoga. I did a one-hour session this morning, and my quads and hip flexors now feel like I was on a hard and hilly two-hour ride. You can go into various forms of a deep squat and hold the position for painfully long periods of time. Lactic acid for breakfast, anyone?

I know of a pair of very experienced cyclists who, during one winter, substituted one day of yoga per week for a day of cycling training. They claimed that almost all their on-bike performance stats went up that year.

* * *

Then there are the intangibles. They are at least as important to me as the physical side.

I do at least a little yoga every morning, followed by meditation, and I would have to write a pretty thick book to sum up the positive impact that practice has had on my life. Far from making me a pale, navel-gazing wimp, it increases my physical and mental energy, improves my concentration, clarifies my priorites, and gets me excited about, and actively engaged in, my daily life.

I do a kind of yoga that's a little outdated for it's emphasis on the combo of inner and outer development. You can still find it out there if you know where to look. The Americanization of yoga has changed the face of the discipline forever -- a discipline proven and perfected over literally thousands of years. Most classes have completely cut out even the broad-based, non-religious inner aspects such as brief meditations, and using mindfulness while in the poses.

I knew this was inevitable the day Madonna told the world she loves yoga. But it still makes me sad, because growing the inner life was the reason yoga was developed all that time ago. The physical benefits, as vital as they are, were considered bonuses (and inseparable from the inner growth). So, I find it hard to watch the proliferation of hard-driving, goal-oriented, platitude-shouting American yoga instructors. They've turned the thing into a football camp -- and they're raking in the dough. So be it.

* * *

As for me, after a good yoga session (and they're almost all good) I feel more joyful in my body. My mind is calm and clear. My connection to what I call God is markedly stronger, and it permeates my being; it isn't just a thought or a brief moment of clarity. Climbing into the shower with trembling legs and core muscles, I feel at least as high as I do after a really good ride. And, I feel strong -- from the bones on outward.

Okay. Maybe this post belongs on "Yogaphoria," not Velophoria. But there's more than one way to be happy in this life. Why not try them all?

Finding the Body-bike-road Continuum

In the last couple of days, while riding my regular workouts – distance, climbing repeats, etc. – I’ve discovered a kind of consciousness arising in me that I am very, very interested in. When it happens, the word animal arises in my mind spontaneously. I watch the athletes on the Olympic broadcasts and see something similar sometimes – a blend of power and looseness, a total absorption in their activity at that moment.

On Sunday, I was just starting the final third of my long ride for the week. It had been a good morning; I’d gotten out early, picked a good route, ridden within myself and was feeling up. I’d made the decision before I left to hold a little back until the final third, and then, if I felt strong, to unwind the engine a bit and treat the last stretch more like a time trial – just to see how it worked. A few miles into that, I was flying down a pretty, winding country road, and something just came over me. I hate to sound corny, but it really was like the bike, the road and my body became one thing.

I’ve had breakthroughs in cycling fitness, and leaps in my technique, too, but this is only the second time that I have experienced the entire feeling of being on the bike in a very different way. I felt like I was a gazelle or a leopard, leaping down the road in a feral, fluid blur. (Not that I was going super-fast – the feeling involved more than just speed.)

I guess it’s popular to call that the zone these days, and perhaps that’s what it is. All I know is, my day-to-day mind falls away unexpectedly; it stops thinking about the very long list of annoying details awaiting my attention, or interpersonal struggles, or questions about the future. It’s like I become entirely body all of a sudden – or maybe more like my mind deserts its habitual post (churning away just behind my forehead) and, like some fluid special effect in a wizard movie, just floods my muscles and bones and nerve endings. It didn’t last long; a few minutes, probably. Same thing yesterday on my climbing repeats.

I tell you, it’s really quite a feeling. I want more of it.

I’ve been meditating for 15 years. Some mornings I get into a good place, and body and mind also join together at those times, along with – if I’m lucky -- spirit. But this is different – it’s even different from the feeling I get from yoga, which I’ve been doing even longer. One stated goal of yoga is roughly the same: To synch up body, mind and spirit. But this feeling on the bike is different from both of those practices. It’s like I’m achieving that state, but in a highly active way, body working hard, moving fast. It usually comes when I find that place where only the muscles I need are doing the work; the rest of me is relaxed. (Very yoga, by the way.) This is something I’ve been focusing on lately in my cycling, because I’ve heard it’s a great way to improve performance and endurance. I never imagined it would leap me across a gap I didn’t even know was there. I sure hope I can continue to cultivate that state, because, simply put, it’s really addictive.