Since rediscovering my bike when my gym shut down more than a month ago, I’ve been been riding 10-15 miles per day, every day, with the exception of Saturday, when a snowstorm and a day-long storytelling workshops kept me off the roads.
It’s been a real blessing.
In addition to the exercise, I’ve been afforded a view of the world that I would’ve never seen if I was still exercising at the gym or at home. The world has obviously gotten strange over the past month of pandemic, so what I’ve witnessed has been fascinating.
Last week, while riding during a high wind warning, I watched a porta-potty blow over onto its side. Presumably empty of human beings.
Yesterday I saw four guys parked in the lot outside the skating rink. They were sitting in lawn chairs behind their cars, which were positioned in a square about 10 feet apart, drinking beer from coolers and talking.
I’ve seen dozens of signs of love and respect for first responders, healthcare workers, grocery store employees, truckers, and many more in the windows of homes and on their lawns lawns.
I’ve seen three deer, half a dozen foxes, and was nearly hit in the head by a goose that was coming in for a landing near a river.
I rode by a home as three police cars came screeching to a halt in front of it. On my return trip an hour later, I went by that same house and saw two men standing on separate sides of the front lawn, accompanied by police officers and clearly irritated. A third man was being put into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher.
I never got the story.
I’ve seen several serious gymnasts practicing on mats stretched across front yards. Two woman engaged in some heavy duty weight training on their front lawn. Dozens of couples – mostly elderly – walking the streets hand in hand.
I’ve crashed only once, flying over my handlebars, badly enough that two people stopped their cars to ask if I was okay.
I’ve been chased by about half a dozen unleashed dogs.
I’ve watched dozens of people thank delivery workers as they stepped into and out of their trucks. I also watched a woman shout at a delivery person as he stepped onto her driveway in order to bring her package to her door, ordering him to “Stop right there!” in less-than-kind words.
He handled the situation with more kindness and grace than I would’ve been capable.
I’ve found paths through forests all over town and explored streets and neighborhoods that I never knew existed.
I rode by two teenagers in the throes of a possibly clandestine make-out session in the woods behind a church.
I counted 37 cars in the Starbucks drive-thru line on Sunday. As a Starbucks shareholder, I was thrilled. As a human being, I was appalled.
I turned down Elton Drive in Newington for the first time in my life just as I began listening to Elton John’s memoir.
I took a photo of the old Bally’s Gym in West Hartford, upon which some brilliant graffiti artist has adorned a message so oddly clear that it appears to be a font superimposed over a photo. But it’s not. It’s the real deal.
I’ve also watched the trees begin to bud more and more every day. I’ve looked into some spectacular skies and mourned over empty playgrounds wrapped in yellow police tape. I’ve seen fathers and sons playing catch in empty streets. I’ve ridden circles around my empty school, thinking about how many memories two decades can produce.
This has been a difficult time for all of us, but I’ve managed to see a little bit of the world during this period of social distancing, too, and it really has made all the difference.
