The Spirit of Cycling
Just got and read RR#4. A real keeper! A homerun. Especially, the “Death of a Racer” piece by Howard Runyon.
It provoked me enuf that I’ll leak the gist of my OYB#8 article “Spirit of Cycling” here and now.
Back when I was a bike racer snob, I couldn’t see this, but The Commuter is truly the heart of cycling. He’s not the Lowly Fred, but the Noble Fred. In his story, Howard kinda felt bad when while he was commuting home he passed a racer training group from his club and they didn’t acknowledge him. He described the feeling really well (subscribe to RR!), but I think somehow that he just touched the tip of the simple iceberg.
Simply put, he should’ve felt good riding home. And they should’ve felt bad for not acknowledging him as Commuter and Friend. –Because the only legitimate purpose of bike racing is to pay homage to the Commuter, to honor the working rider. And of course to well-represent your neighborhood,your area, state or country in the Big Meet. Racers are only honorable representatives. I can’t hardly see that they have any other purpose.
Racers stand in the place of someone else–and should do their duty and do them proud. Winning is obviously a fortuitous thing. No cause for pride. Just honor at being the one to win. Everyone who competes is cool, if they do their best in good faith.
Racers don’t race for themselves. If they do, it’s for the person they might become–an ideal. That’s why racing can be good training for young people. To teach them about honor, selflessness and growth. The point isn’t to indulge the person who you are *now*. But to improve. But except for the few who are sacrificed to sport (as professionals), we can’t stay there: we have to take the lessons of sport into life. That’s why sport is mostly for youth…and for reminding ourselves of certain things. But it’s not to be obsessed upon. It’s not about *you*.
The only other purpose of sport is to make money for someone–which seems like maybe a bad thing, opens the door for exploitation, putting the cart before the horse and all: you don’t do something just to get paid, if you did that,you might do anything! –Like ride yourself into the ground or attack a feed zone. That’s not the lesson of sport! In moneysport it seems like there’s a trick involved. As in advertising. As in why the Tour de France was started. But part of it grew to be more than that.
No matter how modern or hi-tech it gets, can the meaning of racing be anything else? Does it get more complex?
The next most important cyclist is the Resting Recreationalist. Since he rides on his own behalf he’s above the racer, who rides for someone/thing else. A rec tourist is someone who takes a ride into the country to revitalize his lungs, legs and spirit. To recover from being cramped in and crowded at work or in town. Maybe even test themselves. Privately.
I don’t know where the professional hobbyist fits in. But since I suspect he’s a bit self-deceived, I won’t include him with real cyclists. He gets absorbed in it. To the nth degree. Knows all about cycling, searches out every detail. Only the best will do. The spouse doesn’t understand. Why don’t other people talk about anything interesting, like cycling? “This will be my 20th century ride of the summer!” –I think they’re being exploited and exploiting themselves. Fit for what, anyway?
So it’s a simple world, cycling is. Funny how quickly it gets twisted. Commuter, Funster, Racer—orbiting addict. Everyone has their place.
Howard hoped that maybe the racers recognized the great distinctive old Eurostyle Sidi cyclocross shoes he was commuting in, give him some props for that. He listed what he was wearing, what his bike was like. Even though he knew his rig was weird that he had pride in each hoseclamp. And for good reason,they were intentional. They worked. His hunger for recognition was obviously totally in vain–they were past in a flash, how could they have noticed anything? But many cyclists feel such pride and hunger anyway. It’s a little twisted and evokes pity, but maybe there’s something good in it, too.
Even if the obsessed type of rider could see Howard’s rig he’d scoff. But why can’t they see that any detail of or homemade rig belonging to any Fred can’t be any better than it is as long as it’s doing the job? Funny how Howard has his own obsession–he wants to find a cyclist in the know enough to know that he’s in the know with all his cool, old custom stuff that shows what any real rider could see: that it’d been well-loved and well-ridden. But I don’t complain: he just wanted a little respect. Heck, a guy’s rig doesn’t have to be intentional and he doesn’t even have to be aware of it. Not every True Cyclist is into bikes. If they’re riding, they’re riding. If it works, it’s worthy.
And why can’t some people see that cycling which tries to do what it wasn’t meant to do, takes a place or energy in someone’s life that it wasn’t meant to take, is the only time cycling is bad or less than perfect? –It’s easy for ALL of us to run afoul of that Stylepoint!
Cycling props are weird.
I don’t get much respect when I go into shops now anymore either. Or on rides. I sometimes bridle against that. Don’t they know I know what I’m doing? That I’ve been there, done that…that the duct tape is part of an evolution in which cool-dude racing was just the middle part? Can’t I do something new? I’m off the front *still*–I’m *ahead* of racing now. –But looking for respect is, of course, suspect in itself.
After my racer pride simmers down, I think: Maybe they react coz I’ve left them. I’m part of the faceless crowd which is anyone who isn’t a racer. But, I haven’t left them completely. In fact, I’m their raison d’etre. They represent me The Commuter. And I’m doing my duty and representing other parts of life. –But I have left them. I miss them sometimes, my fantasies of what we had. I ride to get some fresh air now, not to train. I can’t ride with them. We have different purposes. I just wish they could see the bigger picture and give me my props as Commuter, is all I ask. Acknowledge the connection.
They don’t see that by not respecting our connection they embarrass themselves. They show they don’t know why they’re riding. They’re immature, fresh and raw to the process; they’ve had no one coach them in the Whys. Or they’re just in it in a bad way. But it takes time for everyone to sort things out–especially when there’s no teacher–so I won’t condemn them.
I just wish that someone was there for everyone to ground them in the Whys when they start. I went to a kiddie soccer game the other day. It made me think about coaching. I see that some parents want to focus on drills and technique, then have their kid play. Maybe they learn about Purpose thru osmosis. But I think it’d help anyone to learn better if the big picture were always kept up front. How does the game itself move? What is its main dynamic? Its primary tone? Then step even further out—why does the game exist? If the soccer kids keep that in mind, then keep the game itself in mind, their efforts at drills might come together much more quickly. With much less despair. I saw frustration on lots of little faces that day. Is that what they should be learning?
Maybe Howard will someday realize that those racers snubbed him coz they just don’t care…and never did. Most of the time when his old racer buddies finished a race in the good old days, they let him tell about his sprint only so they could tell him about theirs. They’re in it for themselves. Feeding each others’ addictions. Maybe you creamed em and set records until the cows came home, but they came in second…and pulled their foot out or they woulda won…and slid on that one corner in a scary way. Everyone was getting from the sport what he wanted—the other guys might not’ve been on their minds.
Hopefully Howard met a lot of fine people who he stays in touch with and fondly remembers. But the truth is that sport cycling at any level these days is often just another machine. You take your place for a few years and then you go. You rush for the results, you clap for everyone at awards, then you go.
All you can do is be honorable and do the right thing as often as possible while you’re in it, and hopefully not be chewed up by it, turned into a geek by it. Your results and your gear really don’t mean a thing, but anything good and fitting you do en route does, even if no one notices.
The scene may be so poisoned now, so far from its roots and into consumerism and addiction that it’d be better if you tried to do good or make a dent somewhere else. Or maybe it’s just that much more ripe for a good representative.
Maybe in a mass society, affinity groups are the only way to get humanity down to a size anyone can handle. Maybe the separation we feel when people don’t care even within that group offers its own lesson in endurance. It’d sure be that much more of a shame if being #1 is your only interest while you’re with the only group of 100 people you might ever know so well.
JP
