Kinda chilly (and dark) for a bike ride

I was reminded this morning of the pleasure I find in pedaling. And what makes this insight all the more astonishing is that this morning's pedaling took place in the development's exercise room. It was cold and dark this morning and inhospitable for a ride on westside Atlanta's bustling streets. So I did what has to be one of the most BORING activities known to exercising man (and woman): I sat on an "exercycle" and spun. Just spun.

And I really enjoyed it. Perhaps I'd already found a contemplative place from having read Morning Prayer beforehand. Perhaps Dave Matthews' "Live at Fenway" was sufficiently distracting. It certainly wasn't for the stimulation of feedback from the exercise machine -- it's standard issue and pretty mundane -- and it wasn't for the in-room entertainment -- if anyone knows where the remote for the TV is, please let me know. No, I think the enjoyment I found was what I almost invariably find when I'm "cycling." I found a cadence -- about 95 to 105 RPMs at low resistance -- and I just just "went."

I won't pretend that pedaling in the exercise room is as enjoyable as riding the streets around here or better yet the mountain roads of southwestern North Carolina. Those who've suffered through my tales of finding zen-like peace while riding will attest that no other form of exercise moves me (yes, even when I'm not "moving") as cycling does. I began riding again seriously after breaking my wrist while playing pick-up basketball in Chapel Hill. Sixteen weeks in a cast left me out of shape and eager to do anything that would get me out of the house and push my heartrate above 110. My doctors cautioned against anything that would jar or place undo stress on the wrist. As a child and even into my college years, I'd cycled for fun and occasionally for exercise. Hopping on the bike seemed a natural thing to do. So I rode. And rode. Hundreds and then thousands of miles. It was great exercise, but more than that it was a break from graduate school, teaching, and the other daily concerns of life. It was spiritual.

And today reminded me that it still can be and occasionally is. I disappeared into the "ride" today, and the time flew by. For now, I will content myself with this type of riding. I have neither the time nor winter-weather gear for riding Atlanta's streets. But you'll see me out there when the weather warms a bit. And I'll train not only to the ING full this spring but also the Callaway duathlon. And I'll be grateful that at least a couple of days a week I'll be able to climb on and remind myself of the enjoyment of flying while sitting still.