motorcyclemeditation.com

The motorcycle cruising smoothly along, mind clear, an annual teaser to ponder, should I, shouldn’t I, enter the skate marathon. Twenty six miles, if you want to skate that, just go ahead, why do it in competition, it’s just like motorcycling, you can enjoy it for what it is, you don’t have to race against others.

The decider being a simple matter of philosophy, participation and engagement being autotelically worthwhile, their opposite, staying aloof, a blight and an abomination.

Sunday, the fateful day, arriving. The motorcycle spinning along, eager for anything, skating paraphernalia bungeed to the pillion. A litre of engine power on tap, wish I could put that on my skates, raise a few eyebrows.

Then a thought arising. My motorcycle, thunderously fast, far beyond reasonable requirements, but enter a race against superbikes, it’d look pedestrian. The superbike riders, speedy, yet to my taste, overtuned and excessive. As with skating, the speedsters putting in far too much work, becoming injury prone, and all for going just a bit faster.

For me a better benchmark, be as good as a skater as my motorcycle is as a motorcycle, that is, pretty goddam good. A demanding objective, but not too demanding. Free of ego. Also free of risk of breaking down from over-revving.

The starter gun firing and off we go. Things actually going better than expected, the speedsters pulling only slowly away. Let them go, concentrate on balance, steady power, timing, keeping going. The passing laps blurring into one, the heat rising, everything zoned out but the beat of the skate stroke and the breathing and the zinging of the wheels.

Afterwards, on the motorcycle, thinking, well, that was just about good enough. Balanced and strong. Just then a gap in the traffic opening, a squirt on the throttle, the motorcycle surging forward, well okay then, I wish my skating was as good as that, maybe a bit more training needed before I can match you, motorcycle.