Headspace

20 months ago, I became a father. It was the proudest, happiest, most emotional day of my life.

The immense joy I had at seeing mini me arrive safely in to this world, and the ongoing pleasure I get seeing my little chap grow and develop, is immeasurable.

But, in a seeming attempt at balancing the scales, fate has decreed that, as compensation, I must now suffer a significant reduction in riding time. I can’t have both.

That’s ok. It was hard to come to terms with at first; I knew it would happen but, nonetheless, I was still unprepared.

Watching YouTube clips and Instagram stories from friends’ and associates’ rides, and matching that up to their Strava feeds has done nothing but feed the thought of being left out. I should just put my phone down and block it out but, you know, we all suffer with insatiable appetites for social interaction. Keeping on top of everyone else’s goings on is a huge part of that.

I mean, how can I be influenced if I don’t check out the influencer’s channels.

Anyway, What has actually struck me most since this change in circumstance is not the lack of bike time - although that is very obvious in its absence - but the lack of me time, in general. The importance of headspace. Or, more specifically, the ability to engage with it; or the time to, has become very prominent.

I can’t say the same for everybody (I’m not a psychologist) but I know from personal experience that not having enough time to myself can lead to feeling repressed. For some, this may not be a lot. For other’s, time for reflection is a considerable element of their social wellbeing.

Me, personally; I’m like a dog scratching at the door, or holding the lead in front of its owner. I need to get outside. I like it there. It helps give my brain a chance to breathe.

I always find a good bike ride allows my consciousness some time off, giving my unconscious thoughts the room to grow. In a creative capacity, this can be very liberating. With my brain left to undertake base functions only, such as breathing (literally), there is more room to breathe (figuratively); and space for ideas to bloom.

I have had some of my more creative thoughts whilst in the midst of a hard as f**k climb up whatever hill I’ve decided is the days torture.

Before M arrived, I would ride 2 or 3 times a week, averaging 30km a ride (2-3 hours a time). Some might say this isn’t actually a lot but it was enough for me. Since M arrived, however, this has dwindled to the point that between Christmas (2019, in case you were wondering) and the end of April, I’d been out once on my bike.

Babies/children take up a lot of time; so much so that it can be hard to find the time or space to think about anything else. You spend 90% of it trying to prevent them from killing themselves and the other 10% trying to calm them down after they throw a Hissy fit due to your interventions.

Since his birth, I think I’ve been so engrossed in this little being, that requires all the help I can give him to survive, that I’d sort of forgotten about myself and, in the midst of his arrival, getting out for a bike ride became difficult; so I took up running.

However, running is is nowhere near the same (for me) - for a start, I’ve found it is a lot harder to get rid of an ear worm whilst running than it is out on the bike. Seriously, if it’s not Hey Duggee, I’m humming the theme to Mr ‘effin tumble, constantly - but it does help with head space.

I have found proper mountain bike riding time hard to come by, which itself is depressing at first. I have, simply, had to revise how and where I get my fix for the time being; linking up local bridleways and gravel tracks to create half an hour of off road freedom still provides a break for my mind.

I can vary the routes, to mitigate boredom, but they’re not hugely technical and not really that interesting. The important thing, however, is the ability to get lost in my headspace.

When I’m on the mountain bike, it doesn’t really matter where I’m going. I’ll happily ride to the shops (the long way round, obvs) if it gives me a chance to draw breath.

Babies demand 100% of your attention and energy most of the time; whatever is left is usually reserved for a cup of tea (which inevitably goes cold) but there are ways to get some headspace, if you are willing to compromise and determined to find solutions.

Mine is on my bike and, thankfully, it’s always there when I need it.