WHY

Haven’t written a blog post in a while so I thought I’d share with you what has recently been pickling my mind.

My conundrum is pretty general, but I'm confident a lot of people have asked themselves the same question.

Why the hell do I do this?

This query tumbled into my mind as I was on the turbo in the garage, yet again, during a monotonous school weekday evening.

Initially, I think about the door confronting me as I get the turbo producing a smooth, consistent drone, registering happy numbers on my Garmin and an even power output. I’m fairly confident I could paint the door blind-folded due to the amount of hours I’ve spent sitting on my bike, staring at it. To be honest it’s not a bad door to stare at; it’s not your average door. The model is a stable door, giving you the opportunity to have a peak into my bleak back-garden if you’re feeling in that state of mind; or if you want some air circulation in the ridiculously dense atmosphere that is my garage.

I opt for it being completely closed. I spend enough time in the freezing cold and I’d rather sweat like a pig than shiver like a horse shedding flies. After all, it is a nice-looking door.

There’s a humble window in the middle of it, so I still give myself a treat once in a while: a glance into the suburban concrete-flowerbed-lawn-covered jungle.

But as my hot sweat condenses on its cold wooden surface, I wonder, in any other situation, would I have given so much thought to an inanimate object which is merely a tool to keep some things in and some things out? I ponder more deeply, why do I spend all this time only in the company of a fecking door? I could be...

...watching tv, surfing the internet, studying, pretending to study but actually watching tv and surfing the internet, making a nice meal, giving up on making a nice meal and buying an equally delicious takeaway, spending time with friends, going on facebook/twitter and annoying people who I want to be friends with or researching things which would enhance my life better than staring a stupid door...

The ball had started rolling. I couldn’t get this thought out of my peculiar mind. I wondered for days, why on earth did cycling tickle my fancy? Did I choose cycling, or did cycling choose me?

However, a few days back I had an epiphany. I had woken up late, burnt some toast, and couldn’t find ANYTHING I needed to embark on the forthcoming steady ride. An accurate way to describe my mood would be frustrated, annoyed, angry but fundamentally, grumpy.

A crisp morning greeted my scowling eyes as I slammed the garage door down and threw myself over my bike and ‘got on with it’.

I went over Craigantlet to get out of busy Belfast. It would probably rank as a Cat 3 climb in most races, but it felt like a ‘Hors Categorie’ incline on that morning. I zigzagged my way toward Newtownards, reaching the Portaferry Road, continuing along the coast. As the gradient mellowed, so did my temper. I gazed at the hundreds of birds flocking on Strangford Lough, taking a well earned rest. The sight flushed the negativity of the morning out of my system, and I was just a kid enjoying a bike ride. Nothing mattered anymore. I had no stresses, no downs, just ups.

When I got home, all the gunk in my body had been ejected onto the roads, and all the gunk in my conscience had been thrown up into the tailwind on the way back into Belfast.

I felt fresh.

I racked up my bike on the garage wall with utmost satisfaction. I had found my answer. THAT is why I do it. THAT is why I spend an incredulous amount of time staring at a green stable door. THAT is why I punish myself day in and day out, instead of livin’ it up, like you’re ‘supposed to’...

Without that ride I would have been grumpy and groggy for the foreseeable future. I may have still been in that mood now if I hadn't gone out on my bike. Without cycling I would be a raving psychopath, always annoyed and acquire little to no knowledge about doors. Without it, a few more stress lines would also be added to my forehead as well.

I hadn’t even considered how the racing element of cycling had benefited me greatly! I have met many people, travelled to many different places and have gained many a precious memory by attempting to go faster than others on my bicycle.

One of the best feelings in my life to date is the crowd at a race. Whether it be a handful of people waiting to bring their companion home after a day at a race who have nothing better to do than watch the race unfold, or hardcore enthusiasts lining the streets in some Belgian Village on a sweltering hot day; being the centre of their entertainment on the centre stage is why I went for THIS sport.

Why do you do it?

Twitter: @DanBikeStewart

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