Tonight I had one of those solitary experiences, where, if you take the time to enjoy it and live in the moment, makes life seem like something precious and worth holding onto. Moments after biking home from work, I traded my vest, button down, jeans and boots (dressy for my office) for my biking gear, poured some cold Gatorade into my bottle, put on my helmet and riding gloves, and hit the pavement for the small, historic town of Bellefonte ten miles away.
But life contains detours, as we know, not all of them bad, so when I came upon the road leading sharply uphill to the Penn State football stadium and State College’s minor league baseball park, I left my intended route, stood up on my bike and ground it out to the top of the hill. There’s a wonderful feeling, I’ve learned, in taking a hill in the toughest gear your muscles can stand–so I avoided the “granny gears” as best I could and enjoyed that feeling of release and joy which comes when you push your body and your strength to the limit. Oh, I had to go to a lighter gear, of course, well before I reached the stadium and ballpark. But I made it, of course, and was admittedly rather pleased that all I had to do was coast back downhill (all the while listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers on my iPod).
After the break of the downhill coast, I resumed my regular route and biked another four miles or so to the Barnes and Noble, where I turned around and headed back to State College. I came in on College Avenue, past the main complex of dorms and the shops on the south side of the street. Close to the intersection with Atherton, I pulled over across from Starbucks and waited for a break in traffic so I could cut over for a quick cool down and a venti cappuccino. So, with my cup and a copy of The New York Times, I took off my helmet and sat down at one of the tables out front. It’s the first week of class here (just as it is back home at UK), so I listened to Californication by the Chili Peppers and watched the students hurry by (I would say they all look like kids, but that would sort of be stating the obvious).
After a few minutes I picked up my copy of the Times and began to read: about President Obama’s Martha’s Vineyard vacation and his reappointment of Ben Bernanke as chairman of the Federal Reserve; about the new details emerging about the interrogations of terrorist prisoners. But still, I couldn’t quite lose myself in the words the way that I used to. Something is still not right; I can’t shake this feeling that everyone else in the world is happy and content while I battle my daily ennui. I still feel a little lost sometimes, which is probably one reason why I’m working so early and so hard (that, and the fact that I have something to prove). Still, for a few moments I was relatively happy, sitting there near the sidewalk with my coffee and newspaper and the possibilities I might still find here in State College. One thing is for sure: as much as I long for home and Lexington and the Gorge and my children, I don’t see myself ever coming back for good. That part of my life is over, for better or for worse. But even in the moments of simple joys that I experience, I realize that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone…
