Infinite State

Not sure if my Latin is correct, but my meaning was to seize the coldest day.

I just got into the office after a fantastic but normal morning commute. My bike is leaning against the wall by the window, and I’ll feeling way too warm under all the layers I’m wearing. Hard to believe I’m overdressed for temps in the 20′s and cold winds.

Riding through Central Park on the way here I was thinking that there’s a special pleasure in seizing something wonderful that other people don’t seem to see. All those people on the subway, packed in and unhappy (you can see it on their faces and read it in their bodies) — I know they can’t all hop on a bike and ride to work, but some of them could. And if they did, wouldn’t they find the same glorious parkway, almost empty except for a few hardy runners and the very occasional cyclist? The trees are leafless, bare and structural. The sky is available, cold but embracing. The buildings are at the periphery, a reminder but distant enough. I can’t say the air is much sweeter, but there’s certainly less diesel in it.

And each day, I get the warm, fluid feeling of using my body to move me around. Sitting at my desk is a rest between the rides. I’m about to run for the Y around the corner and try to slip in a fast swim before I shower and dress in more office-appropriate clothes. But I have to say to anyone reading this: it’s available to you, in some form. Right now. It turns out that “freezing” cold weather really isn’t so cold with a little bit of clothing and your body making its own heat.

I’m grateful every day I ride for many things, including the wise friends who urged me on or supported me in crossing over the line from seeing it as crazy to realizing that everyone else is just missing it. Think I’m crazy for riding my bike to work in mid-January? Then you need to try it out and discover what’s out there that is vibrantly alive and rewarding.

Each time I encounter another cyclist (in this weather especially) I say hello or good morning and see if they’re up for a little conversation and commuter-shop-talk. This morning I met two and had great little human exchanges of a kind that you don’t get on a subway. Camaraderie in the cold helps, but they both had the same light in their faces that I knew was shining out of mine: we were out in it, seizing it and loving it, and all the people bundled up against the cold and stepping down off the curbs could barely see us go by.

I’m going to get a mounted camera so I can start posting some images from these rides and capture the changing seasons of the city.

To the water!