Week Nineteen: Go for a Bike Ride

Nothing compares to the simple pleasure of riding a bike.

— John F. Kennedy

This week I experienced the purest expression, to date, of “How to Be Happy”. 

I’ve talked a lot about cycling in the past several weeks. In fact, my bike has made an appearance in three separate happiness tasks prior to this one. It came in at number 15 on my list of blessings from Week Two; I used cycling as a form of meditation in my “Zen Habits” of Week Nine; and most recently it was the first thing I did to raise my activity level in Week Seventeen. 

This unadulterated passion may have something to do with the fact that I have only recently re-discovered the joy of cycling and, as of this writing, I have yet to be hit by a car (a bit of a spirit dampener, I gather). Everything about my bike makes me happy: the handle grip, the placement of the hand breaks, the little bell, the narrow tires, even the story of how I acquired it. To make a long story short, I purchased the bike, virtually unridden, from a cousin who brought it to me at another cousin’s wedding. So, the first time I rode my bike I was slightly inebriated, in a floor length dress and heels, in the parking lot of the reception hall. We’ve been through a lot in the past nine months, my bike and I.

One of the reasons I included “Go for a Bike Ride” on my list of 52 ways to be happy is that I already had three months of anecdotal evidence that riding my bike does, indeed, make me happy (is that cheating?). I timed it for the second week of May because I thought that by this time I would be riding my bike to and from work regularly, so lots to work with there. I hadn’t counted on a global pandemic forcing everyone to work from home, but I made the best of it and started going for morning rides anyway.

Up until recently the purpose of my bike was purely utilitarian. I rode the 7 kilometers to work and the 7 kilometers back, only diverging from this pattern to get my tires filled once every two weeks. Despite this, I experienced more joy than I ever felt driving my car to work. The morning ride up hill was hard. It was exhilarating, it was rewarding, it flooded my brain with endorphins which, it turns out, is an excellent way to start the day. My afternoon ride down hill was physically and emotionally freeing. It took all the desk-sitting tension out of my body with about half the effort. No matter what else I did during the day, I felt like I had already accomplished something simply by getting myself to and from work.

Since my commute has gone from 7 kilometers to seven steps, I decided this week that I would take the opportunity to try something new; to give my bike a new purpose. I decided, in addition to my routine of pre-work bike rides, that I would add one longer ride just for me. I live in a region with lovely cycling trails and I had never once taken advantage of them. This week, that would be my happiness task.

And it worked. I experienced a direct correlation between my weekly task and actual, instantaneous happiness.

I had chosen Sunday for my bike ride, but from the moment I woke up all I wanted to do was go back to sleep. I did not anticipate that this Sunday, Mother’s Day, would be especially hard. I have lived through many since my Mum died and some are harder than others. If I had to guess, I would say that my mood this year likely had something to do with the emotional turmoil of a global pandemic, visiting but being unable to hug my Father the day before (due to pandemic-related physical distancing), and the number of pregnant female colleagues who are about to become mothers for the first time. Whatever it was, I started that day feeling very blue.

I knew, as I tried to talk myself out of bed, that I was running out of time. The afternoon forecast called for rain and in the evening we were bringing dinner to my in-laws. I was in such a deep fog that I barely acknowledged my husband as I put on my riding gear and walked out the door. I stood with my bike in the driveway and took a deep breath. I took my phone out, snapped a picture of my handle bars, and hit “Go” on my distance tracking app. I told myself to just get it over with as I set out in the direction of the canal.

Within minutes I was smiling.

Getting on my bike that day literally made me happy. I was sad, I got on my bike, then I was happy. I can’t put it more clearly than that. I felt the cold air on my face and smiled as I rode down the long streets lined with giant magnolia trees. When I got to the canal I took the path northward and within moments, I saw several families of Canada Geese digging for grubs with their gaggle of goslings. I slowed down and quietly stopped near one of the groups. I watched as the little ones waddled happily around inside the protective ring of the adult birds. I even got close enough to take a picture on my phone before I was hissed at by Papa Goose.

I laughed as I kept riding, seeing more and more fluffy baby birds as I went. A few kilometers down the path I noticed a large ship up ahead, preparing to go through the next lock. I don’t know why exactly, but I get childishly excited whenever I see one of those enormous vessels passing casually by, alongside ordinary road traffic. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t lived here long enough for the novelty to wear off, or because I’m not consistently late for work because “the bridge is up” – I believe that is called being “bridged” – and thus far I have been very fortunate. 

Serious skill is required to navigate wide ships through the narrow locks; so much so, that someone called a “canal pilot” has to come aboard to safely guide the ship. As I was riding down the path, I watched the crew moving around the deck as they carefully made their way down the canal. I was even close enough to hear them calling out to each other, although the words were lost in the noise of the birds, the engine, and nearby traffic.

The passing ship decided how long my bike ride would be. Unless I wanted to wait for upwards of 20 minutes for the bridge to go down again, I had to turn around and bike back the way I came. I spent a few minutes on the side of the path, watching as the ship slowly progressed through the waterway. As I made my way back, I saw even more goslings and their vigilant parents. I had a not entirely one-sided conversation with a hissing goose, as I tried explaining to him that I wasn’t going to eat his babies and that I simply wanted a picture.

Riding my bike has always made me happy but this was the best bike ride I’ve been on in ages, easily since childhood. I hadn’t planned on going anywhere in particular – other than somewhere near the canal – so I took my time and slowly meandered down the path, looking around at the water, the boats, the birds, and the passers-by.

I thought about all the ways that cycling makes me happy; boats and birds notwithstanding. In fact, I thought about it the whole way home, so I jotted down a list.

How Cycling Makes Me Happy

• The old expression “it’s like riding a bike” turns out to be quite accurate and I am delighted every time I start pedalling that I haven’t forgotten how to do it
• It makes me feel strong (and sore)
• In my own tiny way, I feel like I am helping the environment
• It’s also cheaper to ride a bike! No gas, no parking, less gridlock.
• The feel of the wind on my face, under the power of my own ‘steam’ makes me smile every time
• It’s somehow both energizing and calming at the same time
• Endorphins, endorphins, endorphins 
• Slower than a car, I notice things I don’t ordinarily notice including smells (for better or for worse). Playing “Guess What the Neighbours are Cooking For Dinner” on my way home is a particular favourite
• It feels good when people seem impressed: “you bike to work? Up that hill? Wow” 
• Seeing painted or protected bike lanes makes me feel like my city is committed (at least to a degree) to the environment – and my safety!
• Honestly, it makes my pants fit better

Happiness = Me + Bike?

I was sad and cycling made me feel happy again. Does that mean I can quit while I’m ahead? Much like the endless causes of sadness, being happy or “Happy” is probably a bit more complicated than some good cardio. I will most definitely file this under “Will Do Again”, but I know that it’s only a small part of the picture. Cards on the table: within two hours of my bike ride my melancholy had begun to return, albeit a less intense version. Sometimes sadness is superficial, but sometimes it goes deeper than exercise-induced serotonin can fix. And that’s okay. Going for a bike ride that day made me little-h happy and I know that being able to ride my bike will keep contributing to my big-H Happiness. Biking this week didn’t open a well of repressed memories (which is a nice change of pace) and the task itself is fairly simple. Cycling probably won’t fix big emotional problems, but it is a big part of my regular mental maintenance.

However, road safety is a fickle mistress, so I’ll let you know how I feel about the bike-to-happiness correlation  if I ever do get hit by a car!

Sources

45 Things You Can Do to Get Happy No Matter Where You Are
Courtney Johnston | @CourtRJ | ( http://www.rulebreakersclub.com/) on Lifehack.org