Scooters Go One Speed
By Amy Stopher
Photo by Pearl Roycroft
For the past 10 years I’ve worked mostly from home. Not everyone loves the WFH lifestyle, but it has suited me. Without a commute (or small children, let’s be honest), I made the most of time in the mornings–early beach swims, dog walks, coffee on the back patio over the Bible. Mornings were consistent. A time of refreshment. When our team moved into an office mid-last year, my mornings got shaken. Somehow I had to find 30 minutes to get to the office. In an attempt to multi-task, I decided to ride my bike. I’m not a cyclist, far from. I like riding my bike, but just for fun. Now, I’m now a biking commuter. I can ride pretty much from my front door to the office without riding on a road. Six months in and I’m hooked.
Here are seven reflections from about half a year of riding my bike to work:
1. It’s way more achievable than I thought.
It’s about a 15km ride each way. Not nothing, but manageable. It takes about the same time door to door to ride as it would to catch the train. I’m sweaty enough that I need to shower and change, but not exhausted. I am slow. Basically everyone overtakes me. But I’m enjoying the small wins of the occasional overtake, and my slowly improving Strava stats.
2. It’s more beautiful than I expected.
Especially in the cool of the morning, there’s something unexpectedly special about riding. Yeah, I am riding alongside a freeway, and at some points the path is very exposed, but most of the way there are trees. Tall, green, lush trees.
3. It gives my brain rest.
I decided early on I wouldn’t use headphones while I ride. I want to be able to hear what’s happening around me. It’s been the best thing. My brain now has 30 minutes, twice a day to catalogue my thoughts, to daydream, to problem solve. To rest. The ride is stimulating- there’s lots to see and hear, and I do need to pay attention–but somehow it’s often the most restful part of my day.
4. Riding reveals hearts. Riding reveals my heart.
It’s easy to be selfish on a bike. There’s an intersection right outside our office where bikes riding down the hill are required to give way to pedestrians crossing the train line. The sign is large and clear. You can’t miss it. Every day I see someone almost cleaned up by a bike. When I’m the pedestrian, a sense of injustice rises up. The pedestrian has the right of way! When I’m riding my bike, I too want to sail through the give way. It’s an awkward spot to stop, at speed, on a busy path. Stopping takes away your momentum! It’s too easy to justify what suits me on my bike.
5. The big hill
To get home I have to ride up a hill. It’s right at the end of my route. The first time I did it I had to get off and walk. It takes some effort. Every day as I huff and puff my way up this hill I play with metaphors. As I spin my legs fast in low gear, making slow progress, I think of all the parts of life that feel this way. The hill is the last few weeks until Christmas. The last week before a holiday. Persevering when you can’t see the finish line. I haven’t nailed it. The metaphor or the hill. But that’s okay. I’m making progress.
6. Scooters go one speed. Life doesn’t.
If I’m telling the truth, scooters are the most annoying users of the bike path. Not to do with how they use the path, but to do with the nature of scooters themselves. Scooters always go the same speed. Maybe that’s not literally true, but it’s experientially true sharing the path with them. When I’m puffing up an incline, they sail on by. But equally, when I’m sailing down a hill, their max speed is capped. At its worst we play cat and mouse up and down hills each overtaking the other time and again.
As annoying as that game is, sometimes on the way up the hill I envy the scooter. The ease with which they make progress. That’d be nice! In life too. I crave ease and comfort. I daydream of the time I won’t overextend myself. When I’ll have the perfect amount of margin. When I won’t find my work complex. When each day, and week, and month, will be perfectly portioned between various priorities.
I almost feel embarrassed by how regularly I ask people to pray that I’d manage my time well. It’s not a bad thing to ask of God, but I wonder if beneath that prayer is my belief in a future when life will go at one speed. A future I could achieve by making the right decisions, saying the right yes-es and no-s. It would be a new way of living where I wouldn’t ever feel stressed or overwhelmed. I think I’m kind of always aiming for that era.
But that’s not how life is. By its nature it ebbs and flows. The perfect balance is an illusion. Some days are a slog, others more of a breeze. Increasingly, I’m okay with that. I do want to know my creaturely limits, but that doesn’t mean life at one speed. I can enjoy the satisfaction of working hard and the sweet rest that follows, entrusting myself, my yes-es, and the inevitable curve balls to the Lord.
7. No one should wear white lycra. Ever. Think of the person who’ll ride behind you.
Amy grew up by the beach, the third of four sisters, and first learned the gospel from her parents. She taught high school students Politics and English, before studying Theology at Trinity Theological College in Perth, WA. Now Amy serves on the ministry team at Providence City, and delights in seeing women grow in their confidence to teach God’s word. Amy loves gardening, cooking for people and eating with them, and early mornings at the beach. She lives with her dog, Billie. You can find more of her work here.
