Human Machine
The Bicyclist
With a logical active mind and curious soul I find myself dissecting and interpreting my experiences through the lens of a machine... The following short essay is one about my favorite sport - hope you enjoy!
My heart is pounding, and my legs burn.
I can taste the salty sweat and feel it burning in my eyes before it rolls down the bridge of my nose and off the tip in little drops. My head is down, and I can see the rhythmic pumping of my legs. Up, down, up, down, up, down. They remind me of the pistons in a car. I am tucked low and in over my handlebars, striving to meet the aerodynamics of a stealth bomber. I feel the wind flow around me and imagine myself cutting through it like a knife.
My legs have found a groove and have ceased burning. I can feel the strength in them as the blood flows first to my quads for the downstroke and then moves to my hamstrings for pulling back and up. Again, I imagine myself as a machine, my feet spinning in perfect little circles, pushing the pedals around and around.
There is a sharp turn in the road, and I must break my rhythm briefly. I weigh my outside pedal in its down position as I start to lean into the turn. Centrifugal forces pull me hard and fast around the corner. I am standing, pushing down on the pedals with the weight of my body as I simultaneously pull on the handlebars using the strength of my core and arms in a choreographed dance of man and machine. Putting in a hard effort to get the bike back up to speed so I might once again have my rhythm.
Now I look up and smile, for I see the road winding and extending to a point in the distance - alive and in the movement.
