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A Deserted Countryside
Jun. 17th, 2014 09:44 pmI decided to go for a bike ride today, timing it with the start of the Brasil vs Mexico game. I knew this would give me empty streets (emptier than usual) and a lower risk of falling on my face in front of an audience.
10 minutes in and I was dying. I tried going up a hill that leads out of town and had to stop halfway. My strength wasn't there. So I turned back and glided past homes blaring the game, letting myself explore the town's small streets. Every house had an open door, families gathered around the television. Was this the case across the country? Millions of people stopping what they were doing to watch the game? I counted a few exceptions: the guy cutting down stalks in a field, the man on a wheelchair on his porch, the three boys playing football, the two teenagers playing pool at a local bar.
I returned the bike to my brother 25 minutes into the game's first half and set out on foot, warmed up and ready for a long walk. I tuned into Expanding Mind's latest podcast - an interview with philosopher Michael E. Zimmerman on Nietzche, Religion and Deep Ecology - and kept my eyes on the distant mountains.
This time, I mastered the hill and left the town behind. Suddenly, a black dog approached me. I think she wanted to be my friend. She'd race to the front, enter the fields to check on the cows bordering the dirt road, then sit, watching me as I approached. Once I was by her side, she'd trot for a few moments beside me before dashing ahead again.
She reminded me of Ian McEwan's short novel Black Dogs, except that she wasn't as threatening as the dogs in that story. She abandoned me after a while but, on my return, she joined me again until I reached a bridge and faced calves herded by a boy on a horse. I got home just as the game ended as a draw.
Today's ride was the first time in my adult life I took off on a bike by myself. It was a new and yet familiar experience, as if I was a child again. My brother later told me I can build my strength up in no time - I just need to go for bike rides every day and in two weeks I'll be fine. It's a new challenge I'm willing to embrace.
10 minutes in and I was dying. I tried going up a hill that leads out of town and had to stop halfway. My strength wasn't there. So I turned back and glided past homes blaring the game, letting myself explore the town's small streets. Every house had an open door, families gathered around the television. Was this the case across the country? Millions of people stopping what they were doing to watch the game? I counted a few exceptions: the guy cutting down stalks in a field, the man on a wheelchair on his porch, the three boys playing football, the two teenagers playing pool at a local bar.
I returned the bike to my brother 25 minutes into the game's first half and set out on foot, warmed up and ready for a long walk. I tuned into Expanding Mind's latest podcast - an interview with philosopher Michael E. Zimmerman on Nietzche, Religion and Deep Ecology - and kept my eyes on the distant mountains.
This time, I mastered the hill and left the town behind. Suddenly, a black dog approached me. I think she wanted to be my friend. She'd race to the front, enter the fields to check on the cows bordering the dirt road, then sit, watching me as I approached. Once I was by her side, she'd trot for a few moments beside me before dashing ahead again.
She reminded me of Ian McEwan's short novel Black Dogs, except that she wasn't as threatening as the dogs in that story. She abandoned me after a while but, on my return, she joined me again until I reached a bridge and faced calves herded by a boy on a horse. I got home just as the game ended as a draw.
Today's ride was the first time in my adult life I took off on a bike by myself. It was a new and yet familiar experience, as if I was a child again. My brother later told me I can build my strength up in no time - I just need to go for bike rides every day and in two weeks I'll be fine. It's a new challenge I'm willing to embrace.
