Mindfulness, Acceptance, and Winter Riding

It’s January and I am finally getting back to my neglected blog. During my absence, the season turned and it is fully winter in Boston. Today the high was in the low twenties with a wind chill factor of five degrees. On days like today, I stay indoors and work on the trainer; however, if it is thirty or above, I will venture out on my bicycle.

Winter riding is qualitatively different than riding in more temperate conditions. It takes a kind of mindfulness that riding in summer does not. For one, in cold weather, you have to be more prepared. When I get ready to go out it takes me up to a half an hour to get ready. The other day when I went out I wore a base layer, a heavy jersey, a down vest, two jackets, and shorts under a heavy pair of riding tights. On my feet I wore two pairs of socks, one neoprene and the other wool, heated insoles and heavy winter riding boots and my hands hand two pairs of gloves and hand warmers inside. To top it off, I wore a baklava, a hat, and my helmet. I looked like my daughter the first time we dressed her to go out in the snow. The snowsuit was so heavy and she was so bundled we had to prop her up against the fence to take a picture. She could barely move. I looked like that – but not as cute.

For me, winter riding reminds me that I have to accept that there are things I can’t change in life to which I just have to accommodate. If I want to ride in January in the Northeast, I will have to adapt to the winter elements. I went out on my bike to a party the other night and it started to snow before I left. When I got on the road there was a thin coat of icy snow crystals that shimmered under the streetlights. I rode very, very slowly home. Had there been more snow, I would have walked. Winter riding also teaches me that I have limitations and sometimes it is best to turn back or walk. I respect Mother Nature for her powers and her beauty.

And beauty is easily found when riding in the winter. Personally, I love the stark snow covered trees and the frozen ponds. Even the bike trail is quiet – unlike in the summer months when people and nature are busy and active. There is a peacefulness and stillness that gives me pause. Winter riding teaches me to see the beauty in bareness and reflect on my place, as small as it is, in the cycle of things.