A Challenge on Wheels

“We say the rarájapari is the game of life. You never know how hard it’ll be. You never know when it’ll end. You can’t control it. You can only adjust.”
-Christopher McDougall in Born to Run

I often think about that quote. It refers to a game based on racing to a ball that is thrown for the Raramuri runners in Born to Run, but it also reveals a very sublime truth about life: we can only ever adjust to our given circumstances.

This past weekend my bike Marge was overworked. Marge is not used to performing very rigorously, so as I enslaved her to carry me further than usual this weekend she bitterly reminded me of her exhaustion by squeaking her parts at me in a fury. I’m really not a frequent biker, but somehow I was peer-pressured into doing a race on Saturday and a 30-mile death-ride the next day.

On Sunday I think I lost my soul on a mountain. Two of my friends and I decided to tackle a 30 mile course with a 3 mile vertical climb (1100 ft)in the middle of it while mixed precipitation fell from the sky. I’d like to invite you briefly into the state of mind that I fell into during those 3 tragic miles.

Temperatures were low, so while we sweat we saw our breath. While I desperately fought the urge to get off my bike and walk, I also had to deal with the misfortune of having Hannah Montana's “It’s the climb” song stuck in my head the whole way up the mountain, which increased my pain exponentially. Every few seconds or so, I glanced to the woods on my left expecting to see the skeletons of bikers who lost the will to live while fighting their way up that hill. A porcupine lay dead on the side of the rode and I began to analyze the origin of the word porcupine (it means thorny pig) because I wanted to stop thinking about how much more hill I needed to climb. Just as my vision began to blur from hunger and fatigue, I finally reunited with my fellow cyclists at the top of the mountain where my friend Kathleen announced, “I feel like the baddest of asses.” It was true; I felt invincible.

Biking is like the rarájapari and the game of life. When the road ahead of you changes, you are forced to adjust and switch into a different gear in order to manage. You also have to learn to trust your bike, just as you have to learn to put faith and trust in the people you meet in life. You clench your handlebars until your knuckles go white hoping that a squirrel won’t run out in front of you and send you to the hospital, but anything could happen at any given moment — so you’re senses are heightened. Our everyday problems are our mountain climbs, and the downhill rush that concludes each climb echoes the relief that we feel after we have accomplished something worthwhile. Biking forces you to constantly be in-tune with your body, your senses, and your immediate situation — a fine recipe for healthy living.

Sometimes I like to go extreme. It is equally pleasing sometimes to invigorate the ordinary, but changing up the routine every so often can truly revitalize. I was just going to stay home and do homework all day on Sunday, but instead I had a near-death experience up a mountain that I never thought I'd be able to climb. That bike ride totally justified eating three peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner.

Challenging yourself is fun; it invigorates the mind.