: Local :

It’s possible to walk out of your house with “local” footsteps, printing them one by one till they go on to make “global” consequences! Go, make a safe journey-

I’m standing in a local bike shop, with narrow isles, bins and shelves filled with artifacts of a bygone world; hundreds of bicycling parts waiting to be saved and enjoyed once more. No fancy racks or displays showcasing the newest technology, grease stained shop rags tossed on a well used repair stand, an aging frame leaning in one corner, another new frame packed and ready for shipping to a new cyclist. There are quite a few customers of all ages steaming in early this morning as I think to myself – I have made the conscious decision of supporting my local shop instead of the convenience and bargains found online. And this experience, is what I prefer.

Sheets of colorful cycling stickers and build sheets brighten the worn workbench. Vintage wheel-sets hang above the display cases below casting a playful glow from their chrome finish. And the superb aroma of chain cleaner and lubricants wafting in the air near the used bikes for sale on the shop floor. What better setting for a custom wheel build

Daily Meditation:

While many of us mourn the loss of an expired Groupon deal or online savings code, I mourn the loss of a deeper social function in our society – Local workmanship and community. Local bike shops are struggling, yet they have something precious that is vanishing from our more digital and connected/convenient world – Real people, doing real, honest work. All of this is conveniently awaiting you at your local bike shop.

Sincere gratitude and – Thank You – to the crew at Re-cycle Bike Shop here in our fair city – Omaha, NE. A big thanks to Onyx Racing Products, Velocity and Phil Wood & Co. for producing first-rate, Made in ‘Murica products. And what better way to test them by riding across a frozen lake in March!


: Live Long and Prosper :

The miracle is this – the more we share, the more we have-

Rest in peace my friend.


How About : You :

I left my youth behind me. It peddled the bicycle while I rode on the handlebars-

Get a car you ironically tattoo adorned, Lycra sporting hipster!!!” I remember these harsh words as though they were strewn upon me yesterday morning, instead of two months ago commuting to work on bike.

Was I shocked? Somewhat. I was simply making a right hand turn after stopping at a stop sign at 5am, when over my left shoulder, I was spewed vile hatred upon by some dude. I thought briefly about trying to catch up with him, and having a gentlemanly conversation. Instead, I simply put my head down and set a good pace up the next few hills that eagerly awaited me.

What worries my heart the most, is the need to make these flippant remarks in the first place. It makes me wonder about our current human nature and the impulse or desire to engage in this kind of behavior. The kind of behavior we witness online, where our words carry a great weight with little or no courage, to form a coherent and critical response.

Why does it bother someone if I ride to work on my bike? Have tattoos and practice yoga? Why do people feel the need to project hatred and vomit at every turn? Kindness and love have been cast ad acta, a relic of a bygone world. We live in a world now where a fussilade of hate awaits us around every corner in life.

Daily Meditation:

As we gently ease into March this coming weekend. The undercurrents of my posts will warm to the wonders that cycling and nature so kindly present us. I hope you tag along for the ride

CultFit Peace


For a Five-Year-Old

A snail is climbing up the window-sill
into your room, after a night of rain.
You call me in to see and I explain
that it would be unkind to leave it there:
it might crawl to the floor; we must take care
that no one squashes it. You understand,
and carry it outside, with careful hand,
to eat a daffodil.

I see, then, that a kind of faith prevails:
your gentleness is moulded still by words
from me, who have trapped mice and shot wild birds,
from me, who drowned your kittens, who betrayed
your closest relatives and who purveyed
the harshest kind of truth to many another,
But that is how things are: I am your mother,
And we are kind to snails.

Fleur Adcock

CultFit Spaces


Long : Shadow :

I paint the spirit and soul of what I see-

Do you recall drawing growing up? A pair of stick figures going for a pleasant bike ride, some puffy clouds and a brilliant sun overhead. Curved lines of a peaceful tree that punctuate the landscape, elevating from the ground, spreading into the unknown. Our childhood drawings were pure, innocent and beautiful. There is something truly magical about drawing and trees – They are, in fact, symbols of our soul.

Trees at times, can be dark and ominous. They cast a long suffocating shadow when we stray close enough. During the winter months, their barren, bleak blackness marks them against gray skies and freshly fallen snow. Tress are survivors of winter, and we would be wise to learn from them.

Daily Meditation:

Trees are, after all, capable of heavenly feats, perhaps trees are more in tune with their true spirit than we are?

CultFit Rest


Rest.

It’s so late I could cut my lights
and drive the next fifty miles
of empty interstate
by starlight,
flying along in a dream,
countryside alive with shapes and shadows,
but exit ramps lined
with eighteen wheelers
and truckers sleeping in their cabs
make me consider pulling into a rest stop
and closing my eyes. I’ve done it before,
parking next to a family sleeping in a Chevy,
mom and dad up front, three kids in the back,
the windows slightly misted by the sleepers’ breath.
But instead of resting, I’d smoke a cigarette,
play the radio low, and keep watch over
the wayfarers in the car next to me,
a strange paternal concern
and compassion for their well being
rising up inside me.
This was before
I had children of my own,
and had felt the sharp edge of love
and anxiety whenever I tiptoed
into darkened rooms of sleep
to study the small, peaceful faces
of my beloved darlings. Now,
the fatherly feelings are so strong
the snoring truckers are lucky
I’m not standing on the running board,
tapping on the window,
asking, Is everything okay?
But it is. Everything’s fine.
The trucks are all together, sleeping
on the gravel shoulders of exit ramps,
and the crowded rest stop I’m driving by
is a perfect oasis in the moonlight.
The way I see it, I’ve got a second wind
and on the radio an all-night country station.
Nothing for me to do on this road
but drive and give thanks:
I’ll be home by dawn.

Richard Jones

CultFit Driving


Gone : Again :

There’s no such thing as ruining your life. Life’s a pretty resilient thing, it turns out-

Chances are, a vast majority of us will experience some kind of adversity today. Know what’s cool and interesting – Each one of us is blessed with the capacity to bounce back on our feet after suffering a setback in life. What’s even more cool, is that we all have the potential to improve after we dust off our knees and bandage our open wounds, or as I like to say: Become more resilient.

Sometimes we learn “things” about ourselves from the act of stepping out of our comfort zone(s). These tender moments in our lives can be a way to clarify what is truly important. I find that being open and vulnerable can be a good reminder of my prioritie(s) in life. For me, I cannot convey to you easily enough how easy it is to get swept up in the day-to-day hustle and bustle: Kids, school, work, getting a few cold weather rides in when I can, yoga class and the tedious process of signing in online. Taking some during the day to embrace the comfort of peace and hope truly helps me. Although, we don’t often associate resilience with comfort do we? Resiliency often connotes pushing aside what truly matters to tackle what lies in plain sight Often a Son who refuses to get dressed for school and a yoga studios website that fails to load quickly enough.

Daily Meditation:

We can find peace and hope in resiliency, we certainly can.

CultFit Hardy

 


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