Velocipede Verses #10: Your 2016 on Strava
I'm an avid cyclist who has ridden 30,000+ miles over the past seven years. I enjoy sharing the little I know with interested others.
You spent hours and days chasing your goals that year
Pushing on and on
For miles and altitude
2016
The year just past the year
You returned from the wild blue yonder for good
After decades numbering three
Your identity
Can get wrapped in what you do
When you soar like a bird,
An eagle
A sword and shield for the nation you love
Leading for a living all day, every day, and many days at night
Prepared to fight
Twenty-four-seven-three-sixty-five
Alive
With the buzz of never turning off
Always needed
Your blood Service blue
And red and white, too
Then the Republic for which you stand
Says thank you, your service to your Service and your country is no longer required
Retired
In a way, anyway, with still many a day to live from here on forward
Beware
That there
Is now a hole
A gap
A chasm
A yawning crevasse
Where there used to be the Constitution
You solemnly swore
To support and defend
To the ends
Of the earth and sky, against all foes
Even those
Who were not foreign, but domestic
Your bag and boots and helmet remain in the closet
Because it
Is not now for you to serve those ends
A new job can occupy eight hours, five days a week
That’s bleak
Only 2080 of 8760 and change
How strange
It would seem to have so much free time
So you set a plan in motion
A goal, if you will
To climb a hill, some hills every day, many days
To ride lots of miles, 5K in fact
To chase digi-badges on a web-based app
That tracks miles gone, minutes your butt’s in saddle, thousands of feet you climb
The time
Adds up over days and weeks and months of the year
In Jan you’re the man
You’ve started your plan
Climbing the meters and riding the miles
The badge appears, your first of the year
One-twelfth of the way to your aim
The game
Is afoot and the past is behind
Kind of, anyway
Though as Robin Williams once said
Cycling is the closest you can get to flying
And you’re buying
That philosophy in month two and month three
Of the year just past the year
The wild blue was no longer for you
According to your Uncle Sam
In April and May and June
You ride and you climb
A lot of your time
One-hundred-and-five-and-a-half of the hours
While showers
Bring the flowers and the tomatoes start to blossom, too
While you
Hit the saddle every morning, every evening, and sometimes at lunch as well
In Jul and Aug
You’re an absolute hog
Eating the miles day after day
Grunting through ascents over and over and over
Repeatedly
And then over again
And when
The biggest star
Makes its way toward the maiden of wheat
The heat
Doesn’t stop you from progress
Down valleys, up vales, the hills and the dales
You ride and you ride
And bide
Some of the time that used to be used to serve the call of duty
In the month of the Jack-O-Lantern
You ride in the cold
Name one outing
Frozen Finger Glory
Aka
Miracle in Bear Creek Canyon
Because though breezy and frigid
It’s spectacular
And your iced hands were among other hands
Who helped pave the way for paving the way
Along the path of your beloved trail
All hail
Accessibility to outdoors
For riders and walkers and those who require assistance
You break out the fat bike in November
Remember
And recall days with less gust, less chill, less cold, biting rain
The pain
Is sometimes good fodder to fill the mind
The grind
Of spinning the wheels round and round is also good therapy
And burns calories
That need to disappear this time of year when the gobbler is good and the taters and gravy and berries and rolls with butter fill the plate and you express gratitude for a loving family and friends and health and happiness
Then your world suddenly fills with snow
And Jack
Is back
With his frost, and the biggest star hardly plays for most of the days
In December
And it rains in the cold
Man, it gets old
And there’s ice on the road and it eats at your soul
Your goal
5K
In miles
And all the badges to climb
The time
You put into an entire year of riding and occupying the saddle and your mind
Churns
And your heart burns
As you sit with your nose pressed to the pane
Watching rain
Turn to ice not safe to walk on, drive on, ride on, you want to cry
Oh why?
Then your bride buys a gift, studs on tires that arrive
December 25
And you smile as you go to the garage to put them on your fat bike
After cooking orange rolls for breakfast
The annual tradition
And wishing
All the rest of the kids and even Mom and Dad
Could be home to open gifts with you and you weren’t an orphan
Which all comes to mind
When you find
The tires don’t fit, they rub on the sides
Too fat for a frame that’s pretty fat
But not fat enough
This stuff
Is the stuff of nightmares on your street name
What a shame
As you cipher and lament
How far and high you went
In 2016
The year just past the year
That you
Came home from the wild blue
For better
Or worse
And for good
Then fell short of your goal by 13.9 miles and some number of feet
Bittersweet
But there’s always next year
And the year after that
And some years in the decades numbering three ahead of you
To see
If you can soar like a bird
On a bike up the hills, on the roads, on the trails
Down the valleys
Up the vales
You can get wrapped in what you do
And still do it for a very good long time
Yet to come
You spent hours and days chasing your goals that year
Pushing on and on
For miles and altitude
It weren't for naught
Comments
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 29, 2020:
Thank you, Gypsy Rose Lee. I appreciate the kind comments. Have a wonderful week.
Gypsy Rose Lee from Daytona Beach, Florida on July 28, 2020:
Awesome and creative. Thank you for the poetic cycling trip.
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 27, 2020:
Eric - exactly! Purpose-driven, adrenaline junkie, the need to keep the mind and body occupied. All very true. And thanks for coming along for the ride, my friend! 5K all the way!
I appreciate your very kind comments, Eric.
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 27, 2020:
Hi John - yes, that's certainly all part of it; the chase, the challenge, goals to attain out in front of you. I had ridden for quite a number of years before I retired from active duty, but the time available to dedicate to it was certainly lesser. In any case, there is also the serenity aspect of it, too, where it's just me, the road, my bike and my little tiny brain thinking about things, whichever things, and feeling free like a kid again.
Eric Dierker from Spring Valley, CA. U.S.A. on July 26, 2020:
I was behind you all the way and boy are my legs and butt tired. They have a great term, those who do not really get it, "adrenaline junkie". The real term is a purpose driven life - double meaning intended. 5K eh.
Your poetry style is another service to your people.
John Hansen from Queensland Australia on July 26, 2020:
Wow, Greg, now I understand where you are coming from. An ex Airforce man needing to replace the thrill and adrenalin rush of serving your country on high. I am sure Robin Williams was right, “cycling is the closest you can get to flying.” This poem was wonderful and the way it was written portrayed the speed, and need to keep striving to attain new goals. Great job.
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 26, 2020:
Sha, thanks so much and Happy Sunday to you, as well, my friend. I do miss the wild blue though the angst of it is less acute nowadays, and you’re right: cycling has filled some of that gap, along with a couple other hobbies and work around the home. Have a great week, Sha!
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 26, 2020:
Thanks Lorna. Yes, the ups and downs of the every day are very much like riding on hilly terrain. When you reach the top and look out at the horizon, there is always another hill ahead. You can climb it when you get there, and your attitude about that is everything. Thanks again for the lovely comment. Much appreciated.
Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on July 26, 2020:
Box, now I understand your love of cycling. You miss the wild blue yonder and will find it any way you can while your butt is grounded.
I love this glimpse into your mindset.
Happy Sunday, my friend!
Lorna Lamon on July 26, 2020:
I enjoyed this cycle challenge through the seasons of 2016. It's good to look back and remember. For me it read a little like life, full of highs and lows. Great poem Greg.
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 26, 2020:
Thank you, Liz. Yes, kind of like climbing hills and screaming down hills, it was an interesting year. Thank you for your very kind comments.
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 26, 2020:
Thank you, Ann. It was a good riding year, though I'm on track to surpass it by many a mile in 2020. Completely retired, the COVID's arrival on scene, both combined to the point where I'm getting in 115+ miles per week this year so far. No lofty goals this year other than to just get out there and ride.
greg cain (author) from Moscow, Idaho, USA on July 26, 2020:
Bill - thanks and thanks, and yes. Riding in the cold and snow is good if you wear the right gear. The trick is sorting that out before you leave the house because it's bound to change along the way, for good or for ill.
Liz Westwood from UK on July 26, 2020:
That's a pretty impressive achievement and an extremely impressive poem. You convey the highs and lows of the year really well through your carefully chosen words.
Ann Carr from SW England on July 26, 2020:
Wow! That's some journey! I like the rhythm and the toil that goes into this, and the memories of serving your country. Well done on all aspects!
Ann
Bill Holland from Olympia, WA on July 26, 2020:
Well that was one hell of a ride.
First of all, thank you for your service to your country.
Secondly, biking in frigid temps and snow? You are a mad man, and I say that with great respect.
Pedal on, my friend!