AphROADisiac

I think I am falling in love.

It happened unexpectedly. I wasn't looking for it.

Bittersweet goodbyes after time spent together. Excited anticipation before the next encounter increasing proportionally to the unfolding potential of experience. And then, butterflies. An unsolicited smile that can't help but to unfailingly show up on my face.

I am talking about road cycling. 

If it weren't for "corona", I would have gone to the gym that day, as usual, instead of attempting to reach a far up high village on my 30 kg city bike, failing miserably. I wouldn't have brought it up to a friend who happens to own a billion road bikes. She wouldn't have offered to lend me one to try again together that weekend. I wouldn't have done it, I wouldn't have had the experience. I wouldn't have loved it. And I wouldn't have bought my now beloved gravel bike —an undeniably gorgeous, miraculously light piece of wonderful German engineering. 

I remember looking at cyclists overtaking me with skepticism. The complicated gear, the aggressive position, the intimidating speed. I didn't get it at first. Now I might be turning into one of them.

Just in the last couple of days I have witnessed some beautiful, heart melting sunsets I would have otherwise missed. I have set foot (or tires) on exuberant fields and peaceful hills that, up until now, I had just looked at from city windows or bridges. I have witnessed flocks of different kinds of birds taking off ahead of on lonely roads as a startled reaction to my approach. For once, I have been the one taking over dozens of city bikes. A route that took me half a day to complete two years ago, I have been able to cover in just two hours today. The steepness of it felt like a stimulating challenge to be mastered, instead of an enemy that couldn’t be defeated. All the while having my muscles grind, my heart race, and my sweaty skin melt with the wind in exchange for a cooling sense of freedom.

What’s not to love?

Très proche de la frontière avec la France

I cycled all the way to the French border and back on my urban bike. I went on my own. About 52km total. Not much I feel like I have to say about this experience –the most productive part of it being some of the photos I took along the way. I am feeling a bit numb lately, after all. My thoughts were mostly an unorganized chaos of somewhat contradictory low-key isolation desperation and loneliness, and wonder/excitement about the unexplored road ahead. Easter is turning out exceptionally beautiful weather-wise, and there definitely is something divine about it. Once again, just a conscious break on Resurrection Day to thank God for all the lucky circumstances and health through this crisis despite everything.

Locked down, locked in

Locked down, locked in Staying positive is not easy under these circumstances. I enjoy being alone as a general, voluntary concept, but having no choice but to forcefully experience solitude to this extreme, in ways I have never before, is a different thing. I do feel the psychological effects of reduced social interaction, most of the remaining taking place in the context of work. I don´t enjoy the notion of feeling trapped here, of not having access to my family. I also don´t really like the prospect of potentially having to give up my holiday, the highlight of my year: the one time I feel completely free to unfold, connect, experience and absorb the world in a soul-elevating kind of way for a sustained period of time. But it is easy to dwell in the negative, it is easy to keep all this in the front of my mind. After all, just as Gustavo Adolfo Becquer said – and I love Becquer– loneliness is a beautiful thing, as long as you can share it with someone. What´s hard is to keep somewhat positive throughout it all and see the silver lining. In an effort to exercise that vision, these are the things I could come up with:

• No FOMO. Having no special plans on a beautiful day or engaging in introverted activities that I love doesn´t automatically lead to feeling like I´m wasting my time away or not making the most put of the sun, since there is literally no friends or social plans to engage with/in.

• It´s never been easier to become aware of how precious certain everyday things and rights I have ALWAYS taken for granted actually are: freedom, mobility, physical connection.

• I get to eat better since I have time to cook and actually think about my dietary choices much more consciously.

• The weather outside IS amazing these days. Sunny days are always a plus, no matter what.

• Everyone I love is ok.

• I have the security of knowing I am not going to lose my job.

• Through my job, I can actually do something meaningful and purposeful for/against this crisis by just showing up and working, and I even get payed for it.

• Also because of my job, I get to experience this crazy crisis first hand in the purest of the senses. I get to actually SEE the literal core of it all: what this disease actually does to the lungs! Objectively speaking, although not easy, it really is kind of exciting.

• Every day my motivation to hit the gym hard when this is all over grows a bit more (not that I have trouble in that regard), but dreaming about the day I´ll be able to return to my weights is turning into a pleasurable fantasy of mine.

• I have Popcorn. I get to spend more time with her and take care of her more consciously. I am able to let her out for longer every day and so, hopefully contribute to making her short life (2-3 years) a bit better.

• I do have all the obvious “look at the bright side” basics: food, shelter, health.

• It´s very easy to strike up a conversation with strangers. There´s something to talk about right away.

• I get to do skype with people I wouldn’t normally have that kind of “close” interaction with.

• Many restaurants that I like now have home delivery service.

• I am spending less money than I normally would, I get to save without even trying.

• I get to keep my environment tidy.

• On home office days, I get to go on walks or mini-hikes through nature in the middle of the week, on empty paths surrounded by only the sound of chirping birds.

• I have home office days.

• I get to go out in the first place! Which in Spain is not even possible anymore.

• Not much I can do about feeling trapped, but there´s way worse places to be trapped in than the Black Forest.