My Hei Hei race bike lie dormant in the garage having not been ridden for weeks or sprinted on to fly with fierce intention. Rather, a broken spoke from a piercing ping of a landing keeps it still in silence, cooped up like an animal in a dismal garage with a neglected injury. A broken spoke similar to a broken part of myself neglected in avoidance to ignore igniting a blindingly savage drive for performance. With a bit of love I fixed it up and I took it out for a rip. We sprinted to every yellow stoplight, sprinted against the horsepower of the utes and sprinted on every section of single track. We railed the dusty desert dirt of Sydney's flowing trails and we pumps thru the berms and over the rollers and jumps. We climbed the rocks and danced down them with diligence and delight. And lastly, at the dusk of the day, we sprinted round a wide street corner with razor sharp skill to a solid line. A line to my imagination unconsciously became a finish of a world cup. A world cup race I will never race.
It was hard and it was emotional riding my Hei Hei with emerging memories and emotions of racing that no one will ever understand. Putting in all you have into something day in and day out, year in and year out. climbing the ranks to the point of elite. Sacrificing everything but your job to put food on the table, to pay race entrance fees, to put gas in the tank to reach races only seeking and demanding nothing short of stellar, savage performance a state of pure focus, flow, and physiological perfection... reaching to point of UCI stars... on a whole new level impossible to compete with as an average working Joe...
The spark to the flame lye passive as the constraints of society flow away from passion. Yet the lifestyle of riding remains in flow of navigating a city weaving the cars and peeps like trees and tapes, jumping curbs and debris like rocks and roots, and sprints to yellows like finish lines. Perhaps the opportunity to rally some races will arise but the shear full commitment to something that will keep you hungry and purely in a true vulnerable state. Alas, the love of racing resides and resonates at every state of my existence and I may meet that savage friend again. But until that time comes, riding my bike, remains a constant state of fun and freedom from life because riding a bike is like a bird spreading it's wings to play in flight with delight. Like flying from one transition of a trail to the next, life is full of rocks, roots, trails, and transitions... we need to effectively adapt to each to find the way to flow with fierce intention to keep the party train alive...
It was hard and it was emotional riding my Hei Hei with emerging memories and emotions of racing that no one will ever understand. Putting in all you have into something day in and day out, year in and year out. climbing the ranks to the point of elite. Sacrificing everything but your job to put food on the table, to pay race entrance fees, to put gas in the tank to reach races only seeking and demanding nothing short of stellar, savage performance a state of pure focus, flow, and physiological perfection... reaching to point of UCI stars... on a whole new level impossible to compete with as an average working Joe...
The spark to the flame lye passive as the constraints of society flow away from passion. Yet the lifestyle of riding remains in flow of navigating a city weaving the cars and peeps like trees and tapes, jumping curbs and debris like rocks and roots, and sprints to yellows like finish lines. Perhaps the opportunity to rally some races will arise but the shear full commitment to something that will keep you hungry and purely in a true vulnerable state. Alas, the love of racing resides and resonates at every state of my existence and I may meet that savage friend again. But until that time comes, riding my bike, remains a constant state of fun and freedom from life because riding a bike is like a bird spreading it's wings to play in flight with delight. Like flying from one transition of a trail to the next, life is full of rocks, roots, trails, and transitions... we need to effectively adapt to each to find the way to flow with fierce intention to keep the party train alive...