The Spirit Of Hasidic Cycling In Brooklyn

Citibike, the bike-sharing program in New York (my hometown), began nearly fifteen months ago.

During the first days of the program, leaders of the Hasidic Jewish community in South Williamsburg, Brooklyn, petitioned against it.  They weren't against bikes, they said; they just didn't like the idea of "scantily clad" cyclists rolling through their neighborhood.

A couple of years ago, Hasidic leaders in Borough Park, another Brooklyn enclave, protested the construction of bike lanes on exactly the same grounds. 

I haven't heard about the Borough Park rebbes lately.  I've ridden through the neighborhood a few times and found no Citibike ports.  For that matter, I didn't see very many adult cyclists.

On the other hand, a few days after the South Williamsburg leaders made their complaint, Hasidim for Bikes clamored for the blue bikes.  Not surprisingly, Williamsburg--sometimes called "Brooklyn's Portland" or "Hipsterville"--was one of the first Brooklyn neighborhoods to get Citibikes.

Not long afterward, I started to see bearded, black-clad men in top hats pedaling up and down Kent Avenue, Berry Street, Havemeyer Street and other neighborhood throughfares--even on the worst days of a record-breaking heat wave we endured last summer.

Note that I mentioned the men.  I hadn't seen Hasidic women pedaling or coasting on the blue bikes--until today.

It wasn't exceptionally hot, but it was warm and humid enough for me, in my shorts and tank top, to break a bit of a sweat when I sprinted, however briefly, because, well, I could.  I tried to imagine how it must have felt for those women, clad in long sleeves and skirts, sweaters and thick opaque hosiery of the kind I might wear with boots in the winter. 

I didn't take any pictures--Years ago, I discovered that Hasidim really don't like to be photographed, especially by outsiders--so I've included this image because it probably comes closest to showing what it must have been like for the women I saw today:

 

 

 

My Tribute To Robin Williams On The "Huffington Post"

Last week, I noted the death of Robin Williams.  In addition to possessing an amazing, unique talent and all sorts of other wonderful qualities, he had a great passion for cycling--as a participant as well as a spectator.

In case you're interested, here's a link to a piece I wrote about him for the Huffington Post.

I hope he and his Pegoretti are on an absolutely amazing ride somewhere.

First Ride After An Accident: Going Bonkers

If you've done at least one long ride or have been training with a group, you've heard of "bonking".  You've more than likely experienced it--admit it! ;-)

You've also probably heard it referred to as "hitting the wall". In scientific terms, it's the depletion of the glycogen stores in your liver and muscles.  You know it's happening when, all of a sudden, you can't pedal another stroke or run or swim another stroke.

It happens even to  the most experienced cyclists, runners, swimmers or other endurance athletes.  We do what we can to prevent it, mainly with proper nutrition and rest.  But every once in a while, some condition we didn't anticipate--such as a change in weather or a detour up a mountain (Yes, that's happened to me!)--presents itself.  Or, something causes changes in our metabolism or other bodily function or condition.


Today I felt myself "bonking" after just a few miles.  The ride wasn't difficult and, although I was trying to give myself a workout, I wasn't riding at an exceptional pace.  The temperature and humidity were, if anything, a bit lower than one might expect at this time of year.  And a scrim of cirrocumulous filtered the midday sun.

I don't think my sudden fatigue had anything to do with food, or lack thereof:  I'd eaten shortly before I started riding.  I can only wonder whether it had something to do with whatever trauma, however mild, my body experienced from my accident on Saturday.  I'm still feeling a pretty fair amount of pain on my left side, below my rib cage, though it's not quite as bad as it was yesterday or the day before.  And the bruises are more noticeable than they had been.

Hmm...Maybe it took my body a few miles to figure out that it was still hurting, still in shock.  After all, this ride--I did about 20 miles (32km)  in all--was my first since the accident.

Whatever I was experiencing, I find it amusing that it might be described with a term ("bonking")  that the British use as a less-rude synonym to "shagging" or the f-word.