Lately I’ve been having trouble sleeping at night. It could be a bit of depression, it could be a bit of confusion. It’s probably a bit of both. Too many thoughts swirling around my head.
Anyway, at least two or three times a week this last month I’ve been getting up and going riding at like, 2 in the morning.
Yeah, I go to the Pub but it really isn’t about drinking – since I just get a diet coke or two. It’s not about meeting someone, I already have someone I’m interested in. I’ll stay out for an hour or so, watch some videos and then come home. I might get a lucky dog. What it is about is the ride there and back. What happens in between is just an excuse; a means for the ends.
It dawned on me tonight on the way home at 3:30 am why I like riding a fixed gear so much and why I don’t run a brake. Riding a track bike forces me to drop all of my thoughts, to clear my head of everything that’s bothering me. All that exists is the road, the traffic and the fusion of bike and self. When riding brakeless I can’t worry about my fucked up semi-satisfying dating situation, my slowly emptying checking account, the third-world city I now live in or my dillema filled job that I love – working for a boss that I believe in who hasn’t been able to pay me in over a month and who could very well die at any given moment.
Nope. I’m too busy simultaneously paying attention to the two intersections ahead of me, the flow of traffic around me, the pedestrians on both sides of me and the pavement below and directly ahead of me to think about those things.
I can deal with those things tomorrow.
4:45 and I’m just getting to bed. Good night.
