I should rephrase that.
I am madly in love.
I am so madly in love that all of my thoughts are consumed by it, and daily tasks take longer for me to complete because every few moments I am jarred out of reality by this love.
It is a love that has the power to make me happier than most things in this world. It takes me to a different plane of this life. It wakes me in the middle of the night, not out of fear or stress or woe. It gently wakes me in the night, to remind me of the love that is shared.
This love, dear friends is a love for cycling. Biking. Cruising the mean, mean streets on my two-wheeled vehicle of justice. And love.
This is no spring/summer fling, however. It is a bit more of a slow burn. The last few years I have been becoming more and more attracted to cycling. It started when I was living in downtown Edmonton, and busing or driving to work was a costly, costly venture. I got a bike, and started my lil commute to work. Only a matter of about 10 blocks or so, but it was great. I started to explore the river valley systems, and was taken by the amazing beauty that was within our fair city from the view of a bicycle.
One sunny summer day in 2009, that bike was stolen from my backyard. I was crushed. But, as my weird luck would have it, I saw my bike at a busy intersection downtown later that day being held by a very sketchy looking man sans shirt. I walked up to him, told him "THAT'S MY BIKE" over and over again, very loudly, to which he got a little angry with me. I grabbed my bicycle slowly, not unlike trying to take a piece of raw meat from a dog. I kept my gaze firm. The crossing light lit up, and I said to him very calmly (almost eery now that I think about it) "I am going to take my bike now." To which he replied loudly "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM" and I said "No, but my name is Lindsey." I got my bike back.
And that is where my unrelenting love for cycling officially began.
Fast forward a few years, and I have gone through many bicycles. At last count, I have had 4 stolen (not including the one I got back - but she was a little worse for wear to ride around after that), two break down beyond repair, and one that was parked outside of the UofA hospital overnight and had everything except for it's frame and back tire stolen. Thaaaaaaaaanks, guys.
Add to that a few wipe outs and accidents (the most scary/hilarious/strange was when I was riding home from the LRT with a bag of boots I had just bought, when the bag got lodged in the front tire and I flipped over my handlebars. Who was there to witness that and save me and my bike by driving us home? None other than Edmonton's first lady, bike enthusiast and generally awesome woman, Sarah Chan. She saw me at my worst, bloody faced and in shock. It was a great moment.), and I am still going strong. I recently had my father ship me a bicycle from Winnipeg that my grandfather refurbished for me. She is my true love. I ride that bike EVERYWHERE. It's a 30km return trip to the music school I teach at, and I ride that in half the time a bus would take. Take that, stinky bus!
And how can I not mention the feeling I get when I am riding the ol bike? It beats out most things in the world, I can tell you that. I feel like I can ride forever when I am in motion. The moment I reach my destination, I am a little bit saddened by the fact that I don't have to cycle anymore. I feel as though there is nothing that can make me happier than riding on a good stretch of a bike path, alone and in motion.
It is a strange feeling. But a good one.
I want to ride my bicycle every day. Forever.
Until next time you see me ride into the sunset,
The girl who is constantly wanting to be in motion.
