Breathe Through It

"Ride through it." - Every EZ Rider I know

Day 31. APoxOnMyBlog has been announced. At least to my closest friends - The First Friday Lovelies. My sisters, soul mates, Goddesses of the Universe. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. And you really don't have to read this . . .

The EZ Riders are my cycling club. I'd say "team" but that implies a level of organization and, perhaps, formal financial structure, that is in no way applicable to this motley gathering of cyclomaniacs. I'm pretty sure we'd take a bullet for one another. I know we risk our lives for each other, but that is just the nature of riding a bike on the same roads with Oklahoma drivers. On many rides, I am the only female, and I am definitely the least experienced rider. Which means I must exhibit the highest pain tolerance and whine the least (my rule, not theirs).

I wasn't far into my first season with the EZ Riders (2007), when it became obvious that their panacea, the Ultimate Solution, the Encompassing Elixir for what ever has happened (real or imagined) or ever will happen to a person on a bicycle is: Ride Through It. Stomach cramps - Ride through it. Leg cramps - Ride through it. Thirsty, hungry, out of energy - Ride through it. Too hot, too cold, too wet, too slippery, too windy - Ride through it. Horrible, blistering saddle sore - Ride through it. Unmentionable in mixed company female predicaments - Ride through it (and don't talk about it). Hopelessly lost on some back country one lane pot-hole laden Oklahoma road - Yup. You guessed it. Ride through it.

This may sound harsh, and more than a little unreasonable. The strange thing is -- it works! I should know; I've ridden through all of the above. More than once. Can't quite figure it out, but I do know one contributing variable. They are all there to ride through it with me. They've all felt the same thing, been in the same situation, similarly suffered (well, all but the circumstances specific to being female). My teammates aren't mean, or arrogant, or ego bound. They are steadfast - always there to lend a wheel on which to draft, a water bottle, a packet of goo, and (relentlessly!) a sarcastic comment or two. There is no judgment, no objections, no impatience, no questioning the legitimacy of your complaint. The EZ riders just deal with things as they come. Like a bunch of pedaling Buddhas. The core group members have ridden together for thousands of miles. Being a part of them feels like merging into an ancient collective. The whole is, truly, greater than the sum of its parts. We all take off together; we all come in together. Noone gets dropped, or left, or abandoned because they are having a bad day. The EZ Riders make Robin Hood and his Merry Men look like a dysfunctional clique.

Only a small number of us mountain bike. We have a challenging ride scheduled for about 10 hours from now. We plan to ride all of Clear Bay, and ride it fast. I'll probably be the weakest link. Last night, as I sat zazen, I was going over the ride in my mind (in between my Ham's and my Sah's.) I felt anxiety, then fear, creep in as I envisioned some of the more treacherous sections of trail. On the heels of those feelings disgust came swaggering in; mountain bikers aren't supposed to be afraid. My breathing became erratic as my heart beat faster. My inhale got choppy and over compensatory. It began to feel disproportionate to my exhale, which was doing its best to stave off the fear and abate the disgust. The Monkeys began to chatter.

So I just sat there on my cushion, my mudra balanced and my spine erect. Thought about the EZ Rider mantra: Ride Through It. Thought about the zazen mantra: Breathe Through It. Sit with the fear. Calmly watch the anxiety. Concentrate on my breath. Ham, Sah. Ham, Sah. Don't evaluate the feelings, don't get attached to them, remember what is real. Gradually, the feelings drifted through and out of me. I felt the solidity of my cushion, the mudra at my middle, the constancy of my breath. Reality became that moment, that breath, and the next and the next, not some hypothetical future event. I relinquished my attachment to any certain feeling regarding the ride, and surrendered myself to the here-and-now. I calmed down, and the Monkeys grew quiet.

Zazen is permeating so many facets of my life. It's becoming an awfully powerful elixir itself, but I have no expectations. And if zazen falls short at a critical juncture in my life, I can always ride through it.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc