just when...

just when i thought i was cursed with blogger's block,  just when my calfs began to cramp during that last set of 300's in the pool when i was swimming messy but fast, about to "guy" that "chick" who always chicks me in master's lane number 5, just when the brutality of three outdoor sessions in less than zero windchills followed by an evening swim was hitting my body, just when the stress of cold, dark, ceaseless winter seems like it has frozen my brain, just when, i thought i might miss a month of blogging for the first time in three years....

it happened...i got an idea...or a series of them to be exact, and they connected, somehow, enough, for me to dare to try to translate them into words, a manifestation of a series of late-winter early spring synchronicities that have played themselves out in my psyche....and without further ado, here we go...

i am done with ceaseless winter. i have had enough; enough of the trainer, enough of watching pro cyclists on the PVR as they ride through coastal italy and southern france in the temperate sunshine. i have a new bike (yes, again) AND "i want to ride my bicycle...i want to ride my bike...i want to ride it where i like"

biking, for me, is a connection to the past; to childhood, and the unbridled joy that accompanies the novelty of balancing on something so precarious as you drift through space with the wind rushing around you. it is like flying. yet, there is also enough of knowledge, parts and expense to appeal to the more adult pleasure centres in my brain, those which enjoy dropping coin on savoury things, and savouring them. 

but winter has a way of grounding me in unpleasant ways, and with its winds, and frozen air, reminding me that all things are the sum of their parts, and if one of the parts suffers...then...

my father used to tell a joke about how various parts of the body were arguing about who was most important. when the asshole asserted his majesty, everyone laughed, until he decided to stop doing his thing and then everyone suffered,  until it was  agreed that the asshole was indeed supreme, as no-one else could be happy if he was not.  when it comes to winter riding, my hands are like assholes. if they are not happy, nothing is good. i have a serious  stockpile of gloves, various layering strategies, materials ranging from neoprene, to wind-blocking nylons, fleece, wool, and a few other patented weaves... and,  as reward for my efforts,  i have days upon days of consecutive writhing in pain with my hands between my legs as they de-frost, having just gone numb, or frozen, or both,  so that i can't even move my fingers  and my nerve endings scream in protest at whatever the hell i just put them through...oh, the joys of winter riding.....

bicycle riding signifies freedom and flight.  it is a metaphor for erectile energy and potency in the sense of a shiva lingam statue in india.  the queen song referenced above raises the issue of the "yoni-ness" of biking also. (look up yoni if you are not sure what i mean). think of the little girl riding the electric horse in the shopping mall a little too much...is this what freddy mercury was invoking in the video?   is this why we have 50 naked women circling wimbledon stadium on their vintage rollers???

but winter is about covering things up...in the name of survival...not about gyrating naked on a leather brooks seat as you ride in gleeful circles...riding in winter is like tempting the snow maiden to embrace you in her cold and unforgiving arms. 

enter snegurochka, the "snow maiden" in russian mythology. she was made of ice, yet longed for the warmth and comfort of human company...she was the embodiment of cold perfection, beautiful in her austerity, un-obtainable, dangerous and utterly incapable of love (like the winter we have endured). 

so, when her mother granted her wish, to experience love, and she began to desire  a simple peasant boy, well beneath her divine status, her heart warmed, and she melted. 

desire, that most human of characteristics, killed the snow maiden. proof that there is something inhuman about winter. and perhaps my imagination is right,  and that, as my hands turn to ice, it is really snegurochka's embrace turning me into her. 

just when you thought cold hands, the death of a divine snow maiden who was killed by desire, queen , freddy mercury, winter, bicycles, naked women, leather seats, and jokes about assholes, could not be brought together...here you are.   

i hope you were entertained. 

and here is to the end of snegurochka and the beginning of a summer filled with love and lots and lots of long bike rides, with warm hands. but i don't think i will ride naked any time soon.