[Last modified: November, 19 2024 06:50 PM]
My embodied experience of the world changed instantly as I mounted my bike for the seven minute cycle to the tube station. On the short walk to the lime bike parking I was struck by the cold temperature, but my long coat and the striding movement of my walk had kept me warm and less aware of the elements. In mounting the bike and moving into a seated position it was immediately obvious I had made the wrong clothing choice. My long trench coat tails flew behind me exposing my legs, the thin veneer of my tights failing to protect them from the brisk air or from the uncomfortable gaze of several passers-by. As I picked up speed, my hands gripped the cold handlebars, the recent turn in weather causing the brakes to stiffen and squeak. As I barrelled down the street I noticed a prickly sensation radiating from my knuckles, reminding me again of my failure to account for the weather. Similarly, with each extension and bend of my legs, I was reminded of my knee injury and the throbbing pain that is brought to the surface only when my right leg is extended in a particular way. As such I had completely forgotten about said injury until that moment, further demonstrating the way my embodied experience changed upon mounting the bike. I ignored the pain and continued on my way, weaving through the quiet back streets of my neighbourhood before reaching the main road. As I waited for a suitable gap in the cars, buses and motorcycles that flew past, I noticed a change in my embodied experience. I slight buzz in my chest had emerged, likely a symptom of anxiety caused by previous road accidents and run-ins with less then friendly Londoners. Or perhaps simply a symptom of cycling in such a big metropolis, where the exposed nature of the vehicle and unpredictability of other drivers and cyclists alike can create a stressful experience. My mind felt alert however, and my anxiety soon turned into exhilaration as I navigated each corner, junction and zebra crossing with ease, arriving safely at the tube station.
Reflecting on this experience, I was struck by just how different the embodied experience of cycling felt compared to walking. On foot I find myself able to daydream and think, usually pumping a podcast into my brain in the process. On the bike however, this is not an option, I must remain alert and with heightened bodily awareness at all times. In mounting the bike my body has left the realm of pedestrian and become its own hybrid vehicle. In some ways I am afforded the status of pedestrian; I am free to disregard the one way systems that litter my neighbourhood and am often given the right of way reserved for those on foot. Despite this I must follow the rules of the road and navigate the space as if I am a vehicle, albeit without the vehicular padding and protection a car affords. Overall, it was clear upon mounting the bike that my embodied experience of the world had changed, not only in my bodily sensations of the elements but also in the degree to which I felt the presence of others vehicles, and the sensations of anxiety this produced.