A treatise on one’s why
Throughout my journey of taking up space and sharing trails and showing – hopefully – other women that we don’t have to be a pro or the coolest or the fittest rider to be on the bike or social media, I have been asking myself, ‘why are you like this?’
Why do I feel the need to share, to show and tell, to try to, and be seen to, hold space for others as they pedal out and try something new?
And at the same time I am pondering (that makes it sound less insistent and chaotic than it’s felt), what do I have to say?
How, out of everybody else existing on the internet, is what I have to say worth stopping the scroll? Why is whatever I have to say more deserving of the algo’s goodwill? Why should my ditties be spewed to the top of Explore pages? What is my face synonymous with?
Those questions raise more: why do pictures of mermaids of the mountains, perfectly posed and buxom on their bikes, captioned with vapid rhetorical questions and banks of hashtags get more engagement? And don’t get me started on follow-cam footage that’s been sped up – a fact we are often distracted from by the focal point of the rider’s derrière.
My problem is not boobs or butts. I love boobs and butts. And I love women showing up in whatever way they feel comfortable.
But I guess that’s where the dissonance kicks in for me. Because in sharing what I do, I’ve always tried to show myself where I’m at. Admittedly, the obvious bobbles and big cases don’t make it to the highlights. I’m not greasing every corner or sending gigantic jumps. I’m not posing in high definition showing off kit tucked in to accentuate curves, hair flowing and make up perfect. And this is where the comparison creeps in.
It’s not a competition, I say. But I’ve never been good at competing (when I was studying journalism simply because it was the first course I was accepted to, there were other kids way more into it and way more talented than me which tempered my desire to compete, placing me squarely in the Ps get Degrees camp). And I am really not trying to compete with the girlies who are racing or stunting. They need this space on the internet to make their participation in the sport viable and I support them in that. I will always clap for the girls pushing down barriers in traditionally male-dominated sports.
I guess my why is to show other women approaching or in middle age, who maybe got into the sport because of a boy or because they wanted to enjoy the outdoors or be fit or do something fun, can do it in a way that isn’t that ^. That isn’t for balancing the scales or justifying eating food. That is for fun and joy and connection and quieting the mind.
Evidently in my pondering my why (that darned why, bane of the human condition), I’ve also done a lot of thinking and talking about how showing up simply to ride fricken bikes isn’t a competition. I generally don’t compare myself to other riders. I ride with people of all abilities and show up as I am, and hope they know I am here for them show up as they are.
And when I’m on the trail, yapping and yipping, I don’t feel any competition or comparison, even when I’m at the caboose on a descent or huffing at the back of the pack on a climb. I can accept that me and my ride buddies are all at different levels and that that’s neither here nor there. It’s just great to be out with them, sharing time and stories and nature and joy.
Yet here on the internet, I feel like I’m losing. I feel like no matter how loudly I yell ‘it can just be fun!’ or how doggedly I continue sharing mediocre photos and videos (the photography and the riding), I’m still jostling in a crowded room full of strangers walking by as I shout, their eyes gliding over me and my voice muffled or caught in my throat.
But I persist. Fighting the tide of social convention, our internalised misogyny, the bizarre standards to which we hold ourselves but don’t expect of others and the excuses we accept from others but not ourselves. Trying to make it make sense.
Why do I feel the need to share, to show and tell, to try to, and be seen to, hold space for others as they pedal out and try something new?