This is my 116th post since I began this page in December 2018. Twenty-eight months in, I still ride a bike every day, spend most of my seat time thinking about everything from my childhood to the day after tomorrow, and each evening, I still sit down and write about those thoughts.

Riding a bike is like being on a time machine. Each day I get to revisit different periods from my life and relive conversations and experiences from as far back as I can remember. Along the way, I reconnect with a variety of accomplices and have another view to landscapes and backdrops from my past. 

The time machine goes forward too, just not as often. I imagine what my life might be like the day after tomorrow, the week after next, or in 2062 — should I make it into triple-digits. I contemplate things that might consume me well into my future. It’s chasing memories though, where my time machine does its best work.

The pattern in which those memories show up is completely random. The whole process sets up like a mosaic of memories, sloppily crafted by the drunkards in my head. I get to steer the bike, but memories drive the time machine, and they each steer a course of their own. 

And it’s not just memories and thoughts of the future that consume me when I ride. Thoughts of the moment weave their way in-between all the other thoughts as they flicker in flash. All the usual suspects show up — politics, social issues, religion, existential doom, business concerns, financial matters, family issues, etc.

As chaotic as that might seem, all that thinking is therapeutic. It’s a big part of why I ride each day. When I sit down each evening though, to write about my thoughts from the ride, it becomes noisy — sometimes painfully so. Perhaps this is because I’m trying  to recall so many things at once, or because I’m trying to create structure from thoughts that have no real order. I dunno, but it hurts when I write.

I’ll never get sick of riding, I find value in all the thinking, but I’m beginning to get a little sick of my own voice each night as I attempt to sort things out and form them into something to be shared. I confess, it often wears me down.

I’m not tapping out and have no intention of shutting this page down. This just something I’ve been thinking about lately, on and off the bike — and this seems like the best place to share that.  

Anyway, this is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb

This week by the numbers…

Bikes Ridden: 7

Miles: 195

Climbing: 8,100’

Mph Avg: 15.0

Calories: 11,044

Seat Time: 12 hours 57 minutes

Whether you ride a bike or not, thank you for taking the time to ride along with me today. If you haven’t already, please scroll up and subscribe. If you like what you read, give it a like and a share. If not, just keep scrollin’. Oh, and there’s this from The Waterboys . Enjoy…!

5 thoughts on “My Time Machine And The Sloppy Mosaic In My Head…

  1. Ah, the rewards and penalties of an over-active mind, I have a suggestion. Perhaps if you could find a way to carry some very small recording device with a small microphone you could wear, you could record some of your thoughts so it would be a lot easier to organize them later that evening. If I have ideas at inconvenient times, I make a small note to look at later, and this has been helpful.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’ve actually looked into recording devices, and there are even some good ones that work at 20 mph. My only real issue is that it creates one more step in getting out the door and on my bike each day, which is already a complicated process.

      I think the key is just a slow down some, but, easier said than done…

      Like

  2. Keep on Riding and Gliding putting the mosaic puzzle together.
    You came to mind when I read this, as I manage and balance out my life.
    Cycling for positive mental health Cycling pumps blood around your body at a greater rate which allows for the rapid spread of endorphins and other good substances like dopamine, norepinephrine and serotonin. It promotes positive mental health. – Cycle Guard U.K.

    Like

  3. When I was underway I kept a diary of the days events and my thoughts on them. Sometimes it was torturous to sort the day in a few words and many times it just a string of colorful language and my sign off of goodnight, but it was a great catharsis.
    Keep writing, we all value your observations and wisdom you impart.
    It it does get hard to write, throw back some cheeze-it’s and some Totinos pizza rolls, that will make it better.

    Liked by 1 person

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