The road ahead of me unravels like a spool of asphalt. Endless, except for the end I will impose on it. The sun shines through the canopy at an angle, casting shadows on the gray surface where my Tires glide Tires immaculate silence.
The smell of wet grass suggests that the dew has not yet dried. The wind has not yet picked up. I drive alone in the perfect dawn.
But even in the wind, the cold, in the rain. Even when coming back from my in-laws' house, swallowing the last snowflakes of spring, my hands chapped, my toes frozen, riding alone is never a punishment or a substitute.
I cherish solitude in motion. I savor every minute spent on my bike, away from the world. Each minute is an antidote, a medicine.
We live amid the white noise of overlapping communications. Soundtracks over video tracks. Ironical memes over sarcastic texts. Notifications from Messenger, from Slack. Floods of emails, Instagram stories, an overabundance of opinions on Twitter, and thunderous grimaces on fucking TikTok. Song snippets. Bewildered faces. Emojis. Articles whose intelligence is destroyed by armies of trolls. Clients. Bosses. Colleagues. Family. Children. Friends. Tenderness and violence. Love and hate. An orgy of information that intoxicates us, numbs us, without us always being aware of it.
From the moment we wake up to the moment we lay our heads on our pillows, we are overwhelmed by the noise of others, fascinated by it, by the illusion it gives us of being together when we are alone.
Riding solo means accepting this separation from the world. It means acknowledging that it is not always negative, that "alone" is not necessarily synonymous with "lonely,"* that ultra-modern loneliness, the kind that gnaws at our souls, is ultimately experienced most acutely in the midst of crowds.
The road stretches out ahead. My thoughts unravel too. They soften, settle into little boxes, carve out a space for themselves in the silence. And I savor this moment, which makes for such beautiful Facebook posts with sunsets and the Dalai Lama, but which always eludes us, because we prefer promises of a future that are too good to be true. We put off the present moment until tomorrow.
Being alone and feeling good about myself is what cycling has given me that is most satisfying. Hours and hours of solitude that allow me to get to know myself and savor the simple joy of being alive, in perfect health, in a country that allows me to enjoy what we call free time, but which is too often locked away in the cell of "responsibilities" in the adult world. Screw the lawn and the housework and the renovations. I choose to ride. Most often without anyone else with me.
It is a solitude that is the expression of a choice. To leave, when I want to. On the path that suits me, or taking turns as I please.
This is not a selfish act. On the contrary, it is the time I need to gather my strength and become a better human being, more open, more able to listen to others because I feel happy with my lot, rather than imagining how tomorrow's "present moment" will be more satisfying than today's.