Morning, friends!
Several months back I started this interview series here where I'd ask people who are pursuing their version of what yoga is about for them (and by that I mean not just contorting yourself into different shapes or sitting quietly on a mountain.) This week I'm very delighted for us to be joined by one of my favorite writers and long-time subject of my tumblr lurking turned IRL friend, Kelton Wright. I'm also excited for the occasion to dig back into my archive of photos from the monumental yoga retreat that was deemed You Do You 2014, an experience from which the token of a framed Ann Friedman original pie chart and beautiful yoga classes led by Gracy Obuchowicz overlooking Lake Atitlan will forever live in my heart.
Kelton is the author of Anonymous Asked: Life Lessons from the Internet’s Big Sister, as well as City Cycling: Los Angeles and City Cycling: San Francisco. Subscribe to her newsletter for all the latest writing on ambition, mental health, and figuring shit out.
I love this interview with Kelton because it reminds me there are so many ways to get into our body...to be embodied. And that is how we can often find ways to let the business of the mind take a backseat and as she puts it, feel our feelings "at 100%." It's all about finding the form of movement that your body really craves. Enjoy!
💖
Kelly |
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Josie, Kelton and me in Guatemala circa 2014!
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1. Tell us a little bit about how and when you got into cycling.
In the summer of 2012, I moved from New York City to Boulder, CO. I couldn’t afford a car, so I bought a bike to commute to work. I got a 29-er hardtail mountain bike and rode the trail system 8 miles to work each way. This was, without question, the wrong bike to get, but I didn’t know any better, and I loved it.
Over the next year, I went from mountain bike, to used road bike, to my first brand new road bike. And the more I rode, the better I felt. At the end of 2013, I heard that the cycling clothing brand Rapha was launching a women’s ambassador program. I applied, I got in, and I’ve been an activist for getting more women on bikes for the last six years.
2. What's your current routine?
I’m riding about 100 miles a week, usually never more than 60 miles at a time. I can and have ridden much further, but I’ve found 30-40 miles to be my sweet spot to have a good time and feel good in my body. I do a lot of coffee rides, which is exactly what it sounds like: I ride to different coffee shops with my friends or my husband, and we have coffee.
I think it’s worth mentioning that during my original routine, which was 16 miles, five days a week, I was gassed. I was terrible at clipping in, bad at cornering, and had also just moved from sea level to 5200 ft. I was out of shape, but determined. That was seven years ago; I’ve had a long time to get to 100 miles a week feeling easy and casual.
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"But whatever I feel on the bike, I’m present for. I let my body show me where my mind is."
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3. How do you feel while you're on your bike? This could be physically, mentally or emotionally.
I feel many things, but I feel them 100%. I feel free, I feel tired, I feel focused, I feel drained, I feel motivated, I feel powerful. It depends if I’m climbing or descending, hot or cold, weak or ready. But whatever I feel on the bike, I’m present for. I let my body show me where my mind is.
4. Do you relate at all to the notion of a "flow state" and do you find that your work provides this for you at all?
When I was in high school, my friends and I would drive around the city looking for people to flirt with, maybe a party to crash. We knew it was pretty unlikely we’d find anything interesting, but we were always psyched to try, and usually had a good time anyway. That’s kind of how I feel about writing. When I sit down to write, I hope to find flow state, but I usually don’t. I have a good time, I get some words down, but it’s a special treat to find that moment of flirty fun called flow.
Part of the reason I left my full-time position with Headspace after 4+ years was because this feeling became more and more rare. Creativity, for me, is a muscle. It needs to be trained, but it also needs to recover — and with a full-time creative job, I wasn’t getting enough recovery to be creative on my own projects. No matter what I focused on, something else suffered. I am in full creative recovery mode right now, and I am feeling deep inspiration, but I am not quite ready to convert that to art.
5. Has cycling changed your relationships with other people at all? If so, in what ways?
Cycling has changed my entire life. It’s how I met some of my closest friends and how I met my husband. But, of course, it also fundamentally altered how I lived my life, and those changes had unforeseen ramifications. Because I wanted to wake up early to ride before the heat of summer, I wasn’t staying out late anymore, I was drinking less, and in my late 20s, this had a direct impact on many of my friendships. Friends who I had been really close with no longer really connected with me. There was a lot of that, “oh you’re healthy now” mentality that I think creeps up between a lot of friends in their 20s and 30s when priority shifts happen, really any priority shift, whether that be health, kids, career, etc.
That was difficult, but as my anxiety got better and my overall health improved, I knew I was making the right choices for myself. Now I have a great group of friends that live all over the world — and I met almost all of them because of bikes.
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"Riding with friends nourishes my heart and mind, but riding alone nourishes my soul."
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6. Do you feel that it has helped you connect more deeply with yourself? If so, can you share in what ways?
When it’s 90 degrees out and you’re alone on mile 80 of 100 climbing what feels like an endless mountain with no shade and no respite, you are either already very deeply connected to yourself, or you are actively snowballing into that connection whether you like it or not. Riding with friends nourishes my heart and mind, but riding alone nourishes my soul. It feels so, so far from offices and bills and to-do lists. For the first ten miles, maybe I’ll be thinking about the week ahead or what I have to do that day, but another ten miles and I’m thinking bigger picture, and then ten miles after that I’m not thinking anymore — I’m processing. My ego is at rest and I’m just an animal navigating a jungle at speed. I know that sounds romantic, but it should. That’s how it feels.
7. Do you already have a yoga or meditation practice? If so, do you find these activities related or similar in any way, or not at all?
I have a meditation practice, but it feels so different to me than my physical practices. Cycling (and trail running, skiing, backpacking, etc.) can all put me in physical flow, and in that physical flow, I have no thoughts — just big feelings. In meditation, I have a million thoughts, I’m just surfing them.
I used Headspace for five years and am now taking a break from guided meditation to do my own twist on mantra meditation. Most of my lingering anxiety is all health related, so my mantra is usually some version of: I’m healthy, I’m strong, I’m capable.
8. Anything else you care to share?
Wear a helmet, go to therapy, and lay on the earth whenever you can.
Also, I want to emphasize that I was not an athlete before cycling. I always liked dirt and mountains and felt at home in the wilderness, but I lost every track race I ever ran, I was permanently benched as “Spirit Captain” of the volleyball team, and I didn’t make the basketball team or the cheerleading squad. Getting on the bike was a decision, and for a long time, I wasn’t fast enough to join the lunch rides at work. For a long time, I felt ill-equipped to deal with cars. It took me years to be “good” at descending mountains.
It can feel like there is this enormous gap between riding a city bike or a cruiser, and then riding a road bike in full kit. But all you need to bridge the gap is curiosity, a dash of patience, and the ever important skill of weathering embarrassment while you figure things out.
-- Kelton Wright (don't forget to subscribe to her newsletter)
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Worth a read 📚
"Because we are compelled to make stories, we are often compelled to take incomplete stories and run with them. With a half-story from science in our minds, we earn a dopamine “reward” every time it helps us understand something in our world—even if that explanation is incomplete or wrong." This is a fascinating read on how humans are basically hard-wired for bias because we really survive on being able to form a narrative, even if one isn't quite known, or not known yet. // "If I could go back in time, I would inject Lizzo straight into my 14-year-old veins. I would tell my teenage self that she would grow up and see a woman like this owning the stage and not hiding behind anything." Thankfully, we have Lizzo. // "Too many of us create our own stress, with its full bodily response, merely by thinking about or anticipating future episodes or encounters that might be stressful." About the role of emotional intelligence when it comes to burnout. |
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Retreat into your Intuition
We still have a couple spots left in our upcoming yoga retreat in the beauty of Shenandoah, Virginia from September 27-29. As an Om Weekly reader you'll get 15% off the listed rates. Honestly? This retreat can't happen without you. 💕 Deets are here. Let me know any questions. |
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Tunes 🎶
New playlist inspired by the feeling that this summer felt never-ending last week, and suddenly like it's gone by in a flash as I type this. And by that I mean it both relaxes me and breaks my heart all at once. Have a listen, stream all day.
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