Are you addicted to cycling?
January 19, 2016 § 41 Comments
As someone with a bona fide addiction, I considered this question from a fellow rider as we two-by-two’ed our way up the Switchbacks today.
Here are my thoughts: First, with regard to Lemmy from Motorhead, David Bowie, and now Glenn Frey, please stop acting like the world just came to an end. These were wizened, drug-addled, head-banging, groupie-groping, career rock musicians, for dog’s sake. Did you think they were going to live to be a hundred? Most of them, especially David Crosby, are lucky they ever saw thirty. Fact is all of their work has been preserved in something called “recordings” and no matter how dead they are, their complex 3-chord arrangements and inarticulate, off-key, guttural grunts will live forever.
And here’s my big prediction: As time passes, they all will die except for Keith Richards, who has been dead since 1969. If you want to get upset about someone dying, why not focus on the children being starved in Syria?
Where were we? Oh right, rock ‘n roll, Keith Richards, addiction.
So my buddy suggested that cycling was an addiction, and I rebelled a bit at that. For me, an addiction is something that you habitually do to deal with a problem, and that effectively treats the problem, but after treating the problem it leaves you with other, worse ones.
With regard to drunkenness, its purpose is quite simple: Silence unpleasant thoughts and replace them with pleasant ones, or better yet, with slurred goop. You see, my head is full of Rated B thoughts (“B” is for “Bad”) and I would rather they were not there. Drinking makes those thoughts go completely away, replacing them with happy thoughts or goop, and it does so immediately. No foreplay, no asking permission, no beating around the bush. Drink one, buzz. Drink two, bigger buzz. Drink three, everything unpleasant is in the rearview mirror and disappearing quickly from sight.
Drunkenness is an addiction (for me) because after accomplishing its objective–obliterating the unpleasant–it runs out of steam and after each treatment session replaces the odious thoughts with even more odious ones. This requires more drinking, until eventually something breaks or someone breaks down.
I suppose cycling could fit this pattern of addiction for some people, but for me (and I think addiction is personal rather than, say, malaria, which infects all its victims under identical conditions) it is not.
To apply the same test, cycling is an activity that silences unpleasant thoughts and replaces them with happy ones, so it starts off looking like an addiction. For me, the happy thoughts are the happiness of beating the living snot out of a real or imagined adversary and watching them struggle, shudder, crack, and crater into a puddle of demolished self-esteem. There is an amazing happiness that comes from riding people off your wheel or jumping around them when they are at the end of their rope, driving a stake through the heart of their hopes and aspirations. It is a very warm, very fuzzy feeling, especially when you know the person well or they are a close friend, to see them wriggle on the end of a meathook and slowly, painfully expire as they gaspingly breathe and groan.
Of course more often than not it is the other person driving the stake through me and I’m the one getting shelled, the one spiraling backwards, legs broken like a wayward SpaceX rocket flopping awkwardly off its landing barge and into the dark, cold, bottomless sea. But even being on the receiving end of the club serves the purpose of taking away bad thoughts and replacing them with good ones: It is pleasant to give it everything you have, to empty your mental and physical tanks, to greedily grasp for the unattainable, to feel the iron bootheel on your skull after pushing yourself to collapse. It’s a glow that some call endorphins, others call “taking the bit between your teeth,” and others refer to simply as “You’re fucked up, dude.”
And yet …
It is this process that differentiates cycling from alcoholism, because after the ride, or rather the mauling, I’m a better person. I’m easier to deal with at home and at work. I’m more sympathetic. I think more clearly, especially after the 2-hour post-ride REM “nap” and 4,000-calorie lunch. And along the way there is a reduction in quantity or intensity or both of unhappy thoughts. When things are really clicking, solutions appear that were invisible before. On top of all this, there’s a residue of physical health, as long as I don’t fall off my bicycle or hop onto the hood of an oncoming truck.
In contrast, any self-respecting addiction leaves an “after the party” set of problems that revolves around the twin challenges of getting out of the gutter and wiping the puke out of your hair. Which isn’t to say that cycling can’t be an addiction for some people, as we all know the person who rode his way out of a job, out of a family, and into state prison as a result of too much cycling. Oh, wait–no, we don’t.
In other words, carry on cycling. While you can.
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Cycling in the South Bay 
Hey, I’m working to get my cycling addiction back.
I mean, call it what you like, but when I’ve puked off the bike, at least I never got any in my hair.
Winning!
Well, yes thank you, as a matter of fact, I did.
As J. Pritchard used to call it, it was “The Agony of Victory!” and I don’t think the guy who got second got any on him either– well, maybe a little on his bike, but hey! That’s bike racing! And lunch, with a real appetite!
Hunger is the best sauce.
Only you could make someone laugh about addiction. But I had to read twice bc my eyes went too fast and I thought you were writing about someone who was a wayward spandex rocket.
I may have been … Let me go back and check!
Do you ever feel like cutting back on your cycling? Do you get angry when your ride plans are interrupted? Do you ever feel guilty when going on a ride? Have you ever laid in the gutter and puckkkked after a race? If so YOU ARE ADDICTED! But not me. just ask me and I’ll tell you how well balanced I am (as well as being totally logical, objective, and right but I digress…).
Balance is for scales.
Thinking of riding in the rain is that addiction ?
That is gaining valuable skilz!!
Also, Flog is definitely addiction. However, the crown is still available for “First woman rider in 2016 to complete all 6 laps.” (More addiction.)
I was cycling in Foxen Canyon on Sunday when Space X took off. We couldn’t see it but wow, did we ever hear it. Awesome. Our hotel was full of nerds and the Tesla charging stations were filled to capacity (I think there are 10) and there were 3 cars in line. Apparently Tesla people go to watch Space X launches.Anyhow, try to take away cycling from me, and you’ll find out whether it’s an addiction or not.
You can have my bicycle … when you pry my cold dead etc.
Stealing some of this material to explain my situation. Thank you!
Not a problem. I stole it from someone else.
Balance is for scales.
Priceless!
I’m addicted and in withdrawals. This AM I was looking longingly at a Schwinn recumbent exercise bike in a gym. Almost crawled over to it to make a few circles… Recovery is not good for addiction!
I’m trying to remember a pithy comment that appeared here a short while ago. Began with “You.Are.” but I can’t recall the rest!
Ha! Calling the kettle black!
Hahahaha!
I had a feeling that talk was going to materialize into a blog post. Except for the dead Rockers, it was pretty much verbatim… and probably the best stroll up the switch backs ever. Thanks
Welcome!
I’m addicted to riding my bike, there I’ve gone and said it. So addicted I might come out and do the stupid donut thing you always ramble on about.
Oh and you forgot the drummer from Mott the Hoople, he’s now at the big bone in the sky with dog.
It’s so amazing that about the time people get close to the average lifespan of a human, they die. Fuggin’ weird.
And don’t worry about your Donut threat being taken seriously. We have a “seeing is believing” policy in force hereabouts.
Maybe not an addiction like alcohol or drugs but just as likely to screw up your marriage.
Or save it.
Addiction. No. Religion. YES!
Mental illness? Possibly!
Take your medicine…
39 x 15, 2 hours daily until symptoms clear.
as my trophy wife attests… it’s not an addiction, it’s self-medication.
I think she’s referring to something else.
the Yomiuri newspaper said that each year more than 20 Japanese old timers choke to death on mochi rice cakes during New Year’s celebrations…
…i’m not sure how many of them were musically talented.
It’s rare that a comment is so weird I can’t even begin to understand it, but, good sir, no offense intended, this is The One.
Close the comments section. He dropped the mic on that one.
I’m looking for the little lock thingy to put around the Internet.
It’s what one calls perspective, Mike. Alcohol, drugs, or even mochi topped with lovely soy sauce and sugar (though delicious) can surely kill if ingested with too much vigor.
Moderation is the key but as Saint Augustine said: ‘To many, total abstinence is easier than perfect moderation.’ Where should one draw the line?
Finally, can a passion for running quality rubber border on addiction? If so, then I’m addicted to Vittoria Open Pave 27 mm (with latex tubes).
Comments are still closed!
I can quit anytime I want. A vow I make after each and every ride.
Me, too!
I quit in the middles of rides lots of times, but then I have to get home.
I think there’s a name for this…
Über. It’s called Über.