The Addiction Cycle


One of the best things that has happened in the last year for me is the return of the cycle. Bicycle, that is. While I was in Ph.D. studies, I lived in "Safe Mode" physically--besides driving down to Philly each week or so for ten years--I mostly stayed away from danger to avoid what I termed a discontinuous event (on and off road). I didn't want to crack my cranium, leaking knowledge as well as neurological capacity.

When I earned my Ph.D., I promised myself that I would get a good mountain bike. Not the hybrid mongrel Trek that I have that is a mix between street and mountain bike. It is geared like a mountain bike and has some other mountain bike traits, without being truly trail ready. Ironically, it is best on the road where there are a ton of hills, where the gearing makes a big difference. Most street bikes don't have the high gears. Well-suited for this part of hilly Pennsylvania.

Although I now have a sweet mountain biking with the proper breeding, shocks, frame, hydraulic brakes, and a hundred other aspects that I am oblivious about--and do much more mountain biking than street--where I am much more fearful of distracted drivers texting something utterly stupid and meaningless than any rock formation, every so often I hit the road and ride. Making sure that there is a huge shoulder and a fun ride in store. Last Sunday was one of those days.

The Eagles had lost the football game and I was facing the rest of an afternoon where I could either kick back and drink beer or do something more productive. Good addiction vs. bad. So, I got the gear on and rode the street/trail hybrid up and down to Marietta, Pa. from Columbia. There are hills and dales both ways but generally Marietta is higher than Columbia physically as well as culturally and socially. While Marietta is far from chic and cute, Columbia is a town suited for roller derby queens and their tattooed boyfriends (girlfriends?) with assorted bodily hardware. Rough town.

The photo above is me getting to ride down to Columbia at a high rate of speed. Probably in the range of 40 mph. It was an absolute blast. Like a roller coaster without the ridic price of an amusement park ticket when one waits in a line for hours, but also a good deal more risk, where a blown tire or errant ride over a rock would turn me into road pizza. I screamed like an Apache on my way down, with the wind whipping my hair like a horse. Truly, a thrill, and a joy.

Finding healthy addictions or perhaps, it is better to say habits and hobbies, breaks the negative addiction cycle with something better. Still a cycle, or bicycle. I felt God's good pleasure in the ride.

(Note: Now that I am back at school, blogging will be once a week typically over the weekend, with a few extra blogs thrown in if I have something to say and some extra time to say it).               

    


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