Writing, Riding, and Contemplation

I've not been riding much, and I've not been writing much. Say that out loud, and unless you have a higher-than-average pronunciation level (say, that of my dad in the 1960s), you'll sound like someone with an advanced case of Alzheimer's. Writing it alerts me to yet another way that these (near)-homophones have become tightly interwoven means of expression for me this year. More accurately, I have been writing much...and deleting, editing, re-organizing, and otherwise second, third, and fourth-guessing myself in just about all of it; since mid-September, I've written fifteen posts (is there a better word for these?) and only published four of them. I've not been riding much; I'll leave that statement unqualified and unedited.

Reaching the goal for 2010

I had a goal to polish up the remaining pieces and publish them here by the end of October. As soon as I set the goal, my creative juices dried up immediately, and I've been greatly frustrated. I have ideas in my head, but can't clothe them with words to save my life. Why can't I write when set my mind to get some writing done? Oddly, it seems cycling works in the opposite fashion; I ride best and have the most surprising adventures and experiences on the bike when I'm aiming for some big goal. Of course, I've set big goals for the past three or four years, so maybe I say that only because I don't remember what it's like just to ride by feel, and not focus my effort on achieving something, even if the thing I seek to achieve lacks any merit beyond my own arbitrary sense of accomplishment. My goals for the past four seasons illustrate this point: 10,000 km in 2008, riding further than I drove in 2009 (failed) and 2010 (achieved, along with 12,000 km), and for 2011, riding every road in York County. Maybe the reason they're different is that riding rewards steady effort, even mindless obsession, while writing does not. To write with a mindset of endurance, pounding out words the way I sometimes pound out miles on the bike, has in my experience led to the kind of dryness I later wish I'd left unwritten: tired cliches, unimaginitive boring words, dumping of information rather than reveling insight. But who knows? Maybe I'm too easily discouraged from the prospect of enduring writing, and too obsessed with numbers and "getting somewhere" to try riding with non-quantifiable aims. Writing endurance and Riding creativity...I think I might try that.

Update: Today as I worked, I realized a commonality between riding toward a big goal and writing by feel, which was my usual habit until my accident-imposed riding hiatus and subsequent writing goal: both of them look to something beyond themselves. That my time off the bike has led to redoubled writing efforts with fractional fruitfulness evaded my notice while writing last night. I'm tempted to say it's as simple as lack of riding equals lack of writing material, but it's not; I've had many ideas I want to put into words, but haven't been able. Oftentimes the best insights and forms of expression burst into my mind while my lungs and legs are bursting on the bike, and I'm presently made painfully aware of my neglect of that outlet, or inlet, I suppose. But cycling functions in my life as more than a means to greater ends such as spiritual contemplation or writing inspiration. I'm inclined to say that it's so tightly connected to these things that it is a living metaphor, even an organic extension of them.