I now post my adventures on:

noweekendwasted.com

What to do on a Weekend: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Ride my Bicycle

This is actually from another weekend on a bike.

When a Friday rolls around, I'm happy to be done with the work week, but there's an equal part of me apprehensive about what comes next.  My big question becomes, "What am I going to do this weekend?"

Maybe that's a ridiculous problem to have.  Maybe you have a spouse, kids, multiple jobs, and various other situations where the stress inherent in wondering how to use a weekend is something you would love to have.  Or maybe it's something that never shows up.  I completely understand!

Nevertheless, maybe there's a tiny bit of the day, or a day, where you do have the choice of how to use your time.  If so, have you ever felt a pang of guilt on a Sunday night (or whatever your version of a Sunday night might be) where you think something along the lines of, "Man, I wish I had done something?"  This weekend I dealt with that question, and I liked what happened next.

This Saturday I awoke early with only the slightest of plans.  I knew I wanted to ride my bike and possibly explore a large part of Nashville.  If you've never checked out the Music City Bikeway, it's an incredible option for a weekend.  I recommend starting at Shelby Bottoms Park.

I drove there with the benefits that come from having a box for a vehicle.

My supplies included, 2 Nalgene water bottles, a book I'm reading called The Fighter's Mind, a change of shirt, my swim suit, a notebook to write in, and my bike.  I like the mentality of keys, wallet, phone as the only supplies, but today I wanted to be ready for reading at Centennial Park or swimming at the YMCA.

I'm not an incredible, spandex-wearing cyclist (those folks are assassins), but I like doing a wide variety of stuff in my free time, so I started off with a warm-up ride from the park visitor center to the Cumberland Bridge.  

 Here's a video I took while riding the bridge:

I returned to the Shelby Bottom's Visitor's Center, and ventured up the pedestrian bridge and into downtown Nashville.  This picture captured a section very close to the Marathon Music Works Building.

As I ventured onto the Music City Bikeway, it became clear that certain sections further away from the prominent parts of town are more neglected.  This was at a park.

After about a 30 minutes from downtown, I arrived in the Farmer's Market area where a very Chattanooga-esque public fountain lies.  It was great for a bike ride in July! 

After the fountain, it became harder to figure out where the Nashville Music City Bikeway signs were leading me, I went long and hard up hills and sometimes had to share a space with cars.  At those moments I found myself hoping I'd stay lucky that day.  After likely close to 2 hours, I passed through the Sylvan Park area, applied another coating of sunscreen, and found myself close to an oasis: this natural food market called The Produce Place.  I might venture there again even after this Saturday adventure.  

A babysitter from my past once gave massive props to the kids who ate okra.  I finally fulfill that requirement.

I was low on water, and hot from the sheer number of hours I'd been exposed to the sun.  I was happy to see fruits and veggies.  This won:

Some expenditures of $2 are worth more than others.

I thanked the good folks at the Produce Place and mentioned that after 15 or so odd miles, a watermelon tasted better than average watermelons.  A middle-aged man wearing a Hawaiian shirt said, "I just rode 30 miles, I guess a watermelon would be incredible to me!"  Suddenly I felt embarrassed to have possibly inferred that 15 miles was something.  We chatted an I found out he'd just finished cycling at the Percy Warner Park.  I made it absolutely clear that I found his exploits to be something and that someday I'd check out the cycling in that area as well. 

At this point, my trek became a serious of jaunts within streets in neighborhoods.  Here are a couple of highlights:

I wish more walls were painted.

If you've ever been to Climb Nashville, you'll have an idea of where I was riding.  I found myself on redmon street and used the climbing gym as an opportunity to use the bathroom.  In the 30 seconds I walked through, there were 7 people in line waiting to get in.  

With less water, I pushed up hills and eventually passed over the interstate and made my way back into the main section of Nashville to try a coffee and tea shop I'd driven past many times but never entered: dose.

I ordered a milk tea mostly because it sounded like the ultimate, weird, delicious choice to have on a blazing bike ride in July.  It was chilled, with sugar sprinkled on top.  It was perfect.

 Now having ridden for upwards of 3 hours, I explained to the barista that I'd ridden from Shelby Bottoms park.  He said, "Dude, I live in that area and bike to work most days a week!"  Like Hawaiian shirt guy, I'd encountered another who completed my "adventure" on a daily basis.  I thanked him for the milk tea and wished him a Happy Saturday.

The journey switched gears (yeah, pun intended) as I entered the affluent neighborhoods around the Green Hills neighborhood.  Whereas earlier in my trip I'd felt a sense of neglect in certain areas, now I was concerned I might be the one who looked out of place with my sweat-soaked shirt and 5 oclock shadow.  I rode on.

I am horrible with directions mostly because I don't pay attention.  A GPS is an essential tool for me to get anywhere.  I got lost eventually, and found myself passing over the interstate, really pushing the bike hard to keep up with cars going in the upper 50 miles per hour.  I eventually got off the bike and pushed.

From here, I'd had enough of competing with cars for space---I figured I'd remained lucky enough today.  So I walked my bike up Woodmont boulevard, passing through church and mall parking lots out of a desire to stay alive.



My journey ended at one of my favorite places---Whole Foods.  I chained my bike up, and bought a bunch of bananas.

Only 2 lived.

 I was lucky enough to have my ole' roommate and buddy from the last 2 years in college pick me up.  I was glad to not have to figure out how I'd gotten where I was, and how to get back.

Sometimes friendship means not having to find your car.

My bike trip began where it ended, at Shelby Bottoms Park.  I was thirsty, and my legs screamed at me when I sat in my car.

But I was happy, because I'd had a great Saturday.


#No Weekend Wasted


P.S. If you're still reading---

Costs:

Watermelon $1.99

Milk Tea $4.50 (I think I tipped a dollar)

Bunch of Bananas $1.36

Total:
$7.85

This isn't a particularly adventurous weekend if you compare it to climbing El Capitan in Yosemite National Park, sailing across the world, or eating baguettes in France.  Yet I can get on a bike and ride upwards of 20 miles in a fun day I won't forget.

 I started the trip alone---you don't necessarily need a crew to have a day like this; however, I met many cool folks while on the road and got to hang out with one of my best friends at the end.

I exercised, ate good food, and spent less than $ 10.  If I can make a great weekend out of a bike, a watermelon, milk tea, and a bunch of bananas, then I figure you can have an awesome experience too!  Tell me what you think in the comments section and I'd love to hear about your adventures too!

Life Burns

Life can be boring, but it can also burn---sometimes with color.

"the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."
--- Jack Kerouac, On the Road

“When we were young,

And truth was paramount.

We were older then,

And we lived our life without any doubt”

---Seal in “Don’t Cry”

Burning.  Burning happens when we feel alive, when all our senses hum and there exists a feeling of freshness.  Like a river running to the ocean, we flow, lit up by the confidence that comes from having done what we need to do.

I think such feelings come when:

A.   We honestly relate to someone we care about

And

B.    We’ve done something we were scared to do before

Neither situation promises a life free of problems.  No matter one’s belief system, we all die.  Burning is not about having certainty, it’s living with uncertainty. 

When we have an honest conversation with someone, we can feel heard.  We know when we’ve said the things we need to.  One of the most powerful feelings is when we know someone really “gets” us.  Such a feeling doesn’t remove uncertainty, but at least we face it together.

Doing something that’s scary offers no promise for success---it could blow up in our face.  The person we ask out says no, or we could really, really, really, screw up Beethoven at the piano recital.  There’s no guarantee in going for it. 

Yet doing something in spite of fear is a victory of sorts, a place where we can reconnect with our wildness, the place in us that isn’t paralyzed by possibility of failure.  Maybe we lose such wildness as we “grow up.”  This place brings a measure of joy, likely because we know we did something.  Maybe we were trembling, and maybe we didn’t look completely in our element, but we did act. 

There seems to be a warrior-like quality to doing the things we’re afraid to do.  For right or wrong, picking a path means opening ourselves for life to enter.  Such an opening could bring a gamut of experiences: pain, sadness, or loss, and equally their siblings: joy, passion, and love.

Anyone can do it, this week, this day.  Life won’t assuredly flourish from action.  But it will probably burn like a blazing fire.

In that fire might be freedom.