Day 21: 2 More Fun Than 1

After some chais and goodbyes at the hostel Adam and I flew down the long hill that had taken us into town days previous. Going back the way you came always feels a bit wrong, especially when there’s so much world out there to see, but the hope is that the rewards will be worth the inconvenience. But still, seeing the same road from a different direction somehow changes everything. It really felt like we were someplace we hadn’t yet been, and that kept spirits up. In the beginning I may have overexerted myself by pedaling too hard to keep up with Adam, mostly to prove that although my bike is a bit heavy and slow compared to his I won’t hold him down during our partnership. He has higher gearing and the clear advantage when the downhill grade is moderate, he also goes much faster than me on the hills, but not so much that it’s embarrassing, not yet at least. We seem to have found our stride. Going as a pair does change everything quite a bit. Your freedom is slightly impeded on, sure, it’s harder to stop and take a photo or get food or rest when you’d like, but our physical needs seem to be more or less synchronized and the company and laughs are well worth this small change of habit. We stopped many times on the way for tea at Adam’s urging. It’s fun to see in what ways people like to treat themselves on the road. Adam’s vices are tea and cigarettes. We are both hoping he will cut back on the latter as we get to the more demanding climbing tomorrow. Unfortunately, at some point during the second big climb the front of my left knee started hurting in a worrisome way, and it didn’t stop. Every time I brought the knee up and down, pain ensued. Three days ago at the climbing gym I bumped it against the wall pretty hard when going for a big move. I thought I had succeeded in sort of walking this off, and I’m familiar with this kind of pain and it typically doesn’t last so long. But there’s clearly a problem, as I’ve been off the bike for several hours and it’s still hurting a bit, and with some of the toughest climbing coming up in the next few days it’s ultra inconvenient. I moved my seat a tiny bit higher, thinking maybe this pain is being made worse by my seat being too close and low. I’ll also try some of Adam’s ibuprofen gel out tomorrow. I’ve never heard of this before but if I can keep myself locally anesthetized until Manali then I will. I need to get over those mountains whatever the cost. I know that sleep has magical powers, and I pray to God I wake up tomorrow with a brand new knee cap. I know that’s not how things work, but I really do need this to. I’m quite excited for this challenge, and if I’m not in full form it’ll put a huge damper on things. 

Exercise is ultimately a celebration. A celebration of your human body physically functioning, doing what it is supposed to. Given how many things could go wrong, a well functioning body is an almost impossible miracle. If you are able to consistently run or ride a bike or play soccer or tennis or do anything athletic at all, it means a million things are somehow working together in unison, not broken, and performing as they should. It means every day your body is flawlessly conducting a symphony, directing a film, and launching rockets into space at the same time. Your lungs are breathing in oxygen, your eyes are seeing, your brain is processing information and fluently communicating with the rest of your body. Your nervous system is serving as the conduit of millions of telegrams. You have four limbs, ten fingers and ten toes, and none of the hundreds of muscles, bones, joints, and ligaments are torn, broken, or swollen. You aren’t sick. You aren’t in chronic pain. You don’t have any of the hundreds of thousands of diseases and conditions and impairments and injuries and mental illnesses available to you. Your gut is efficiently converting food into energy and powering this entire insane process. Not to mention your life is privileged enough that you can even engage in non-compulsory physical activity in the first place. I mean, it’s incredible. This must be where our cultural obsession with sports and athletes comes from. We can only marvel at the sight of the peak physical human. Especially as our own bodies whither and decay with age. And it just takes one thing, one tiny thing, to make it all go to shit. For some reason my body is weird. Move the seat a millimeter one way, I have horrible neck soreness, take it the other way my hands go numb, tilt it up and it fits great but my prostate is on fire, and now, well, I guess I have a bad knee. I need a NASA scientist to design my next bike. Before this trip I did think, in the back of my mind, maybe I should shell out a bit of cash to get myself properly fitted. But I failed to do so. I still think I can make this bike work, I just need to get the seat in the perfect perfectest place, and not be off by even a hair. It’s a shame to need to be so particular at the age of 30, but so be it. I have a million things to be thankful for. My body does work, my limbs are accounted for, my brain seems fine, my gut, well, it’s been worse and it’s actually been on very good behavior so far in India. So there’s much to be hopeful for. And it’s not like riding bicycles all day is in anyway part of the evolutionary guidelines for an anatomically correct human. For some reason, it works for a lot of folks, and it doesn’t work so well for others. Of course, it’d be heartbreaking if I were to discover that I simply shouldn’t ride bicycles, as they are my primary means of transport and my preferred means of travel. But hey, I could always rock a recumbent. One must always look on the bright side.