Open Writing

The surgical team cut out my left hip with a power saw and replaced it with a cobalt steel and porcelain joint.

“No more running or jumping,” the surgeon told me. “Find something else to do – walking, swimming, cycling are all good.”

What happened to the old hip? I’d worn it out with osteo-arthritis and a lot of junk running, preparing for marathons and half marathons.

In between, I’ve also worn out about 15 motor cars, so I believe my old hip owed me nothing.

As a Christmas present, I bought myself a new bike, a fast climbing sprinting road bike with narrow high pressure tires. It flies.

These days, a year after my hip replacement, I’ve transferred my running training program to the bike and commit to an hour a day. Sometimes I have to miss a day but I always come back to the program and record it in my diary along with weight, share values, bank balances and whatever.

I still wear my runner’s watch, which has a digital stop watch function, and I click this on as I leave my carport. There’s about two kilometers of road before I enter the Canning River Regional Park at the Bannister Creek Reserve.

I’ve escaped. I’m free among the native trees and birds – black billed ibis, ravens, egrets, white faced heron, western swamp hens, pelicans, magpies, coots, ducks and a variety of small honeyeaters.

The color of the land is white at present – a profusion of blossom in the dominant eucalypt species, signaling the insectivores to pair up and start their family planning.

The country has been dry and intensely hot but it is still strong. We had an electrical storm earlier in the week which dumped an inch of rain in an hour. We lost power for 24 hours. The high school had to close through flooding, also the local shopping centre. Some cars had holes punched through them from hail stones. Trees were down, roads flooded. Chaos. Before that, it hadn’t rained for six months.

Here am I cycling along the paths, the wind flowing through my helmet and head dress. I enjoy being able to dig down and put some effort in: the bike responds quickly and I fly.

Cycling can be dangerous. A lot of people don’t ride well and don’t follow protocol – stopping on tiny bridges to observe the stream below, and blocking the way. They might ride two abreast, talking. Or flash up behind and overtake on the inside, no bell warning. Or you might be sailing along at 30 km/h and be confronted by an elderly person exercising four dogs, all unleashed and spread across the way ahead.

As Winston Churchill said “Eternal vigilance is the price of life.” That’s especially true when you’re having fun on a bike.

I’m not as committed to cycling as I was to running. I simply ride the way I feel at the time – go for it, back off, try some intervals to get the heart rate up, or just dawdle along at an all day pace. I enjoy this hugely, putting no pressure on myself and leaving no carbon footprint.

A few years ago, on my old bike, I was in a tour with about 3000 cyclists riding from Albany to Perth. We had dedicated lanes on the road and police escorts. One cyclist got a $75 on the spot fine for going over a double white line on a fast descent. He was really cross about it but had already been given a warning and the police wanted to show they weren’t kidding.

I’ll always remember that incident and try to ride with consideration for others.
My thoughts – be happy, be glad you’re here, enjoy the ride, and don’t be competitive – especially with yourself. After all, if you’re lucky you’ll get to be seriously old and you’ll die fit and well and in good condition to pay your respects to your Maker, the Great Rider in the Sky. – Richard Harris.