When I ride all day, I feel closer to myself and more at ease. I spend time with my thoughts in a way that uses breath to cultivate an embodied learning. (Ng, 37) Pushing up a mountain (intentionally suffering) is omnipresent. It is a mental clean up crew. No thoughts, just pushing up. The sweat spilling off brow and streaming its way down my face (no thoughts, just pushing up).
When I sit down at the top, I can weep about things forgotten.
What I’m saying is riding my bicycle is a painting (recording of a physical movement).