A couple of weeks ago I was discussing flow and cycling with someone and mentioned creativity and because our discussion had been focused on road cycling, I got a look that might have been the same one this person would give had I begun growing antlers. Clearly, she thought I was off a rocker, though she wasn’t sure just whose.
The things is, I couldn’t blame her, and so for that reason, I’m making a confession. Creativity and road cycling are two concepts that even I have struggled to reconcile. For so many people I know, road riding is often a solitary pursuit or one shared with just one or two other people, so riding may not seem especially creative in that circumstance. Even if we’re talking racing or riding in a pack, many people wouldn’t consider those especially creative acts.
So let’s jump in and ask the question? How creative can that be?
Well, I’ve gained new insight on this front, as a result of working backward, if you will. We know the answer is more than you’d think for a simple reason: To achieve a flow state, creativity is a requirement and because we can reach flow on the bike … ergo, we know cycling is creative.
My purpose isn’t simply to land a convincing argument that cycling is creative. If that was my goal, I could quit with self-satisfied arrogance, but thankfully, I’m not that straight white dude.
Let’s shift gears and look at an example from visual art. Not sure why, but the example that came to mind was a painting by Vincent Van Gogh, Bedroom in Arles, from 1888. I expect most listeners have seen a photo of this work. The subject is his bedroom, a room with blue walls, his single bed at the right, a table with a pitcher and basin, two chairs, a window, pictures on either side of the window, four more pictures on the wall above his bed, some clothes hanging on hooks.
The proportions can seem a bit distorted at times, as in a photograph shot with a wide-angle lens. And the brush strokes any five year old could manage. It’s just a picture of a room. And yet, it’s an absolute masterpiece of Impressionism. It says so much about the simplicity of the life he lived, how devoted he was to his art.
My purpose isn’t to minimize the creativity of his expression, or the expression of his creativity, but to show how easily and routinely we can minimize the creative act. We minimize how often we, ourselves, exhibit creativity.
Creativity is about choice. Van Gogh’s painting contains tens of thousands of choices. There was the subject, the angle of view, the brushes and canvas he chose, the colors he employed, the decision to imbue the footboard of his bed with a bowed shape at the bottom.
Cycling isn’t actually that different; every change in line is a choice. When we enter a corner, the arc we choose, the gear we select for a hill, when we begin braking—they are all choices, and each choice IS a creative act.
This becomes a little easier to see when we discuss a descent, particularly one with multiple turns and/or a grade steep enough to require occasional braking, i.e., a situation that demands a measure of our skill as riders. Similarly, riding in a group is creative—which wheels we follow, whether we go to the front for a pull, the length of that pull, whether we close that gap or wait for someone else who may not be as redlined as we are, they are all creative choices.
Creativity is even easier to see while mountain biking. Nothing illustrates this so well as approaching a bermed turn where we are forced to consider how high we will ride up the berm, whether we will brake and if so, how hard, as well as when. If there’s a root or rock, will we send the proverbial “it”?
Creativity is composed of choices, an ever-compounding array of them that add up to a single creative act, be it a painting, a piece of music or … a ride.
The moments of flow we experience may float by without much notice from us, and that’s okay. The real measure is how we feel when we arrive home from our ride. Any time I’ve found flow in a ride, I feel a measure of satisfaction that straight to my soul. I know I entered flow when I feel that afterglow serotonin imparts, the feeling that I’m ready to get back to the rest of my life.
Padraig- This post reminded me of a quote attributed to Bob Roll. I’m pretty sure I remember him saying this when he was diving into Mountain Biking in his post 7 Eleven days in Europe. I have applied his philosophy to not just the bike, but also to downhill skiing.
“The more you can disconnect from mechanical and gravitational forces,
The more you can cease seeing the trails as a problem to be solved,
and the more you will transcend the forces of gravity and mechanics.
When you finally disconnect, the trail will look different.
There will be no obstacles.
You’ll see it like a canvas or piece of paper on which
you can express yourself.