When I complained about not having a loyal audience to my blogging today, Vincent (semi)joked, “we write for ourselves.” So that is what I will do.
Kansas has been peaceful so far. The roaring headwind, clacking grasshoppers, unforgiving trucks, and my mishmashed music all seem to blend together and cancel each other out so that I ride in a pleasant silence (as opposed to the unpleasant, soul-sucking sort). I have been mindless a lot in Kansas, but mindful also. I can feel my body falling apart slowly, but also healing somewhat. Unlike Nevada with the highest of highs and lowest of lows, Kansas is more so a meandering river (something like the one we rode next to yesterday) or soft rolling hills (also like the ones we rode through yesterday). The highs are gradual and warm, the lows are soft disappointments. The state is draining and forgiving, somewhat cruel but also endlessly kind at the same time. Nevada was a state of transition and growth, Kansas perhaps is one of simply being. Not a static being though, but of constant change and flow. I don’t feel so much having grown as having been shaped into something with a few more softened corners. If I was a Matryoshka doll, the states before gave me bigger versions of myself to fit into, brighter colors to decorate myself with, but Kansas opened up all my layers to the smallest one and let the sun shine on her for a bit, let the wind and rain tear at her for a bit.
This state has shown me how cruel I can be to myself, it is also showing me how I can perhaps love myself. I have not been very nice– not to my knee, which is hurting quite a lot; not to my body, which is sleep deprived and maybe vitamin b-12 deficient (?). But I am learning to be kinder too, like writing this blogpost just for me, or taking a day off in the car just for me.
Throughout this trip I’ve wondered why I care about the team and biking so much, and I’ve realized on the bike alone yesterday and in the gas station with Katherine today that it’s because I’ve rediscovered what I used to love about swimming and running before they turned sour and spiteful. I have a tendency to hyper-focus on things, to become competitive and forget the joy in things, so I have fallen out of love with swimming, then running, even though there was a time when I was in the pool and on trails in my dreams. Cycling so far has been healing. Each pedal stroke calms me and slows down time. When I am on my bike I feel somewhat whole, and that is a feeling long sought. So today when my knee’s customary dull ache became acute pain, I felt anxiety and fear and stress rushing in quickly. Yet instead of telling myself to push through, I reminded myself of why I bike. It is not for the mileage, not for the statistics, but simply because it makes me happy.
My knee in truth is hurting more than I would like, yet the idea of perhaps pausing this trip for a little while does not scare me so much. I think that if I were to put down my cleats and helmet tomorrow just for a little bit, I would be okay.
Sincerely,
Sophia
