Life is like riding a bicycle
August 23, 2022
Today, I take the satisfaction of writing that over the past 8 days, I cycled 409.55km through three beautiful regions of France (Pays de la Loire, Bretagne, and Normandie).
At the beginning of this year, when we were dreaming of visiting our respective countries, Francois mentioned the idea of cycling through parts of France, which I thought was great, but something inside me was afraid that I wouldn't be able to do it.
Since I was diagnosed with arthritis in both knees, the fear that my body wouldn't function as my mind dreams has filled me with insecurities.
Eight days ago, on August 15th, we set out full of excitement, motivation, and great expectations for the adventure ahead. On the first and second days, we followed the planned itinerary, but I remember that a few kilometres before reaching the final destination of those days, my body wanted one thing and my mind another. I chose to follow my intuition and connect with thoughts that would allow me to continue without faltering. I remember that during a coffee break, a little dog with one of its front legs missing passed by; for me, such encounters are messages that the journey has for me, to recharge my strength when it's inevitable to feel like I can't go on, even though I can.
As I rode and admired the landscapes, I marvelled at nature, its beautiful colours, the smell of the countryside, the colour of the flowers, and the animals. There were many photos I didn't take; they remained stored only in my memory. I didn't want to lose the rhythm because every time I stopped, it meant an extra effort that I needed to spare myself. Moreover, cycling on unfamiliar roads keeps you present all the time, aware of everything around you and your passage through it. A moment's inattention and you can stumble over a branch, a root, and fall.
I came to the conclusion that freedom must be something like the wind brushing against your face, the speed and rhythm of your legs with every pedal stroke, the beating of your heart and your breath all in unison, or something very similar.
I shouted, I cried, and I sang, always for the joy of living this unforgettable experience. There are many hours of silence while you're riding, so I also came to the conclusion that cycling is a form of meditation; it's a way to internalize and exorcise fears and worries.
On the third day, nature did its part; after a heatwave, heavy rain with an intense storm arrived, along with my period, and it didn't give us a break. We could barely cover a few kilometres by bike, soaked to the core and with a pain that doubled me over. We decided to take the train and continue on it to where we would sleep that night. Just like in life, sometimes things don't go as you want them to but happen in the way that's best for us. There came a moment when the rain was so strong and the thunder so close that the train was the better option. Plus, we decided not to camp but to sleep in a cabin with a bed that allowed me to rest better and more comfortably.
To my surprise, the next day was one of the best days in terms of performance and weather conditions. I felt better than ever before, full of energy, without pain, and with a strong motivation to keep exploring and moving on to our next destination.
On average, we cycled for 3 to 4 hours a day. We took breaks to rest, eat, and refresh ourselves with a beer in one of the little villages or towns we passed through. I indulged in delicacies and delicious culinary preparations typical of the region. We also improvised quick and tasty meals to prepare at the campsite.
The following days were the most challenging. The body experiences muscular exhaustion, and often the pain or discomfort is very strong. There were also routes where we had to take the main road, and the presence of cars and trucks near me generated a lot of fear. One thing remained constant, the fear of falling, of getting hurt, and feeling pain.
Many times, I encountered obstacles on the path that made me stop or hesitate, and sometimes I lost my balance a bit. Steep inclines demanded extra effort or paths where it was better for me to push the bike and walk a few steps.
The body is wise and has memory. It's the vehicle that has allowed me to experience things like these, and even though it's not perfect, my strength and courage have taken me farther than I could have imagined.
My heart is filled with gratitude for the beauty I admired, for the delights I tasted, for having the best travel companion, and for this wonderful adventure that I didn't believe was possible, but I made it possible. In the end, it's all about maintaining balance, both on the bike and in life.
