Crosswinds and Creativity

musings on bikes & writing

I used to hate riding my bike in the wind. Give me hills all day every day, I’d say. But wind? No thanks. I mean, a tailwind is fine, but crosswinds or headwinds were my nemesis. At least with a climb, you get views and a sense of accomplishment at the top. But with wind, there’s nothing you could point to and say, “I tackled that sucker!”

Even worse, wind is an unpredictable little sonofabitch. I’m a lot of things, but a spontaneous, go-with-the-flow, up-for-whatever girlie is not one of them.

If you’ve been here for a while, maybe you noticed that I used to send an intuitive eating newsletter pretty religiously every other Tuesday.

It was flowing for a while. I had lots to say about that topic. And then I wasn’t. So I got quiet. And I thought for a long time about what I wanted to say instead.

But I wasn’t sure. So I continued to stay quiet. But the more I avoided writing, the worse I felt. I had a stuck sensation I could feel in my core, like that third donut you probably didn’t need but man, it looked so good with the shiny pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles on top, and now it’s sitting like a rock in your stomach.

See, both of these things are true: I feel energized when I’m writing and publishing regularly (as in this kind of writing, not so much the content and journalism writing I do for money). And I’m super goal-oriented. Give me a race with a finish line. Book me on a comedy show so I have no choice but to come up with a ten-minute set.

So the idea of writing and publishing a newsletter with no deadline, no schedule, and no specific purpose found me overwhelmed. My solution to the overwhelm? AVOID! AVOID! AVOID!

About six weeks ago I met up with my friend and fellow Colorado creative, Julie Vick. Among the many topics we discussed: this newsletter. She encouraged me to write something, anything, and just see how it felt. See what resonated. Hold it a little more loosely. I promised I would. And when I said it, I really meant it.

Around the same time, I had the chance to chat with expert cycling coach and all-around super nice guy Jim Capra for a story I was writing for Bicycling on how to develop your agility to boost your cycling fitness. I figured we were going to talk about jumping rope, ladder drills, and maybe weight training.

But Jim surprised me when he told me one of the best things you can do to improve your agility is to practice riding in the wind. Sure, I’d put it in the article, but I wasn’t going to actually do it myself. Still, as a journalist, I had to pose a hypothetical question to my expert source.

“But for the reader who, just for example, hates riding in the wind, or doesn’t feel safe in windy conditions — maybe they’re petite and are afraid of losing control of the bike — what can they do to feel more comfortable riding in the wind?”

Jim met my question with what turned out to be some very timely, sage advice.

Loosen your grip on the handlebars, he told me. You want to white knuckle it when the wind kicks up, but resist the impulse and relax. Keep your entire upper body relaxed, because when you stiffen, you’re essentially creating a sail which invites the wind to blow you whichever way it wants, he said. Not sure how to do that? Practice deep belly breathing to get started.

Once you’re relaxed, Jim said, the worst that will happen is your bike will pivot under you, but you will remain upright.

I listened. I put it down in my interview notes Google Doc. I even included it in the article. But no way was I going to try it. I’d been avoiding windy days on my bike since 2003 and I wasn’t about to change now.

Until about five days later when I showed up for my first winter gravel race, Old Man Winter. I expected to wear layers and long-fingered gloves. I did not expect to open my weather app and see the ominous wavy lines that represent high winds.

Perhaps the only thing I hate more than wind is bailing on a plan, especially when it’s a race I’ve already paid for. But as a woman who doesn’t think twice about cutting the moldy edge off the cheese and eating the rest, I wasn’t about to light the race fee on fire just because of some wind.

When the crosswinds kicked up, furiously, out of nowhere, and with a force that threatened to tip my bike right over, I remembered Jim’s words and fought every cell in my body telling me to tense up.

Instead, I lowered my shoulders, relaxed my jaw, and breathed deep into my core. I allowed my upper body to gently sway in the direction of the wind rather than trying to push against it.

And you know what? I didn’t hate it. It was actually… totally fine. Empowering, even. Under the bluest blue jay winter day Colorado sky, rolling on two wheels over dirt roads, surrounded by hundreds of other people whose idea of a good time involves a bursting heart and burning quads, I was into it.

Because what is wind, if not just a form of energy? By going with it, instead of fighting it, I wasn’t leaking my own precious energy. Plus, I was having way more fun.

Like every other thing in life that’s out of your control, the wind is going to wind, whether you like it or not. Resisting it, cursing it, staying rigid in an effort to avoid it — only makes it worse.

I’m meeting up with my friend Julie again today. Once I had my oatmeal and my coffee, it occurred to me that I told her I’d play with this newsletter the last time we got together… And I hadn’t done it. Would Julie ever judge me for that? I highly doubt it. But I couldn’t bear the thought of telling her I was still feeling stuck over herbal tea and a biscotti on this dreary April day.

It’s still true that I don’t know what the “finish line” of this newsletter is. Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe this is just where I write so I can work my shit out publicly, so I can practice writing, so I can know what I think, and maybe, if I’m lucky, find a little community in the process.

Maybe that’s just fine. But, y’all, that makes me so uncomfortable. Embarking on a writing practice just for it’s own sake? That’s the crosswind of my creativity.

So here I am. I’m showing up anyway. I’m trying to relax my grip. If you’ve gotten this far, thanks for being on the ride with me.

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