COLUMN: Week two and worry-free
A week ago today, I felt the absoluteness of despair. Few human emotions can truly rival the loss of hope, the darkness that surrounds one who sees no way out. My despair was self-inflicted, making it that much more difficult to deal with. But in my hour of nothingness, I learned a couple things about life, both of which are interrogations of my thoughts.
First, how do you mentally prepare for something you have never done?
Even after a week I haven’t come up with an answer for that one. I have decided that you can’t prepare. Everyone keeps asking me if I’m worried for this or for that. I choose not to worry.
When I dreamed up this trip a couple of years ago, the first thing that made it seem impossible was the magnitude of such an undertaking. I have ridden my bike all my life. For the last few years I have ridden almost everywhere I’ve gone. If I add up all the miles I’ve logged in those years, it still would not equal the miles I have to cover in six months. I have guestimated my total mileage at 7,500. That is a lot of miles. Think 100 days pedaling 75 miles everyday, that’s more than I have ever done.
The second obstacle of my trip is navigation. Up to this point that hasn’t been much of a problem, but I am only in Las Vegas. As I said before, I have made a conscious effort to not plan. I have, however, tried to see how to get through certain countries. Mexico seems to be well-mapped but after that it is questionable until I reach Chile. I have found maps for many of those countries but they are so lacking in detail or out of date that I am probably better without them.
So, I have chosen not to plan, mentally that is. After a little more than a week on the road, I think that is the best way to do it. I plan for the next couple of hours, maybe a day in advance. Past that there isn’t anything I can do and trying to lay down a plan that will be followed is like building a sandcastle in a hurricane.
Second, why worry about the unknown?
I have found that most people worry. The majority of their worries have to do with the unknown. There are too many questions one can ask when starting something new, but none of those questions can be answered until you have done whatever it is that is new. I try not to worry. I really try not to worry. My problem is that I have learned it is useless to worry but the anticipation still gets to me. Regardless of what I am about to do, I feel nervous. My nervousness does not come from specific worries but instead from waiting. I hate to wait.
The weeks leading up to my departure had my stomach in a knot. Insomnia set in about 10 days before I was scheduled to leave. After the insomnia, restlessness and a lack of appetite attacked me. Well, I got through it. I re-learned that waiting sucks, but also that the best way to combat worries is to go running towards them.
Now that I have pedaled a few hundred miles, have run out of water, have legs that feel like rubber and have finished waiting, all I want to do is continue. All the anticipation and worries only made my time before the trip miserable. I guess what I really need to learn is to control the anticipation; maybe I should learn to meditate.
After a week of pedaling, I still have no answers to either of my mental interrogations. I would venture to say that there are no answers. So, what have I learned? Life is fun. Life is hard. Life goes on, ride it on a bike.
Lukas Brinkerhoff is a junior majoring in journalism. His column documents his journey to Chile on a bicycle.