Matter Over Mind

Every day I can, I get up before my family, have a shot of coffee and jump on an exercise bike. I ride as fast as i can, with as much resistance as i can, for 15 minutes.

I wear a heart rate monitor linked to my phone. I listen to a Spotify playlist full of repetitive, high energy bangers to get me going.

In the first five minutes my body wakes up, then warms up, and settles into a hard rhythm that pushes my heart beats per minute above 170 – my personal stress level for cardio.

By 15 minutes I’m really hot and sweaty, my legs are burning and the pace has become difficult to keep up. I jump off, eat breakfast with my two daughters, get showered up and start the day feeling ready for whatever may come.

Riding a static ‘turbo trainer’ bike is beyond dull – nothing like riding outdoors. The bit I enjoy is the intensity of the exercise. You take everything but cardio training out of the ride. In 15 minutes you can see what state your body is in, how ‘on it’ you are that day. A good effort on the turbo equates to ten minutes at my peak heart rate. Ten minutes of peak is often twice what I manage on a two hour road ride or an all day mountain trail ride.

I started to force fitness into my daily routine and get some oomph at the start of stressful days in the office. It was a real bonus to find the discipline helped my mental fitness too. 

When I am down, or I’m processing a difficult issue in my life, I over think and analyse all the possible outcomes, good and bad of virtually all I have done and could do. This side of me has brought success in my career, but in the last two years I’ve learned it can be a weakness too.

When I jump on the bike these thoughts remain, whirling around my mind with nothing to distract me from them. It feels like they circle around my head – big, noisy concepts and possibilities. Some are waves of emotion and others logical puzzle boxes I can’t close or put down.

As I warm up I notice things change.
My body comes to the rescue. 

Nervous leg muscles release like springs to drive me somewhere. My knees circle like a clockwork machine shifted from idle to first gear. My body warms up in a wave starting from my toes. Ten minutes into the ride the heat reaches my heart, now in top gear to push me up an imaginary hill while my lungs force cold air into the system.

It simply feels there is no place in my forearms or hamstrings for anxiety about work. Worries about the future can’t remain in a chest full of joyful, thoughtless effort.

The tunes play their part too. Tempo is important – a good match with my cadence is perfect to latch onto. Lyrics and melody gave my mind something useful to do – the focus giving me enthusiasm and motivation to rev the engine and drive my legs harder at a drop or climax.

I found the most effective songs are punk – reminding me I still love rock music. I was a hard rocker in my teenage years, and moved into similarly high energy and aggressive dance music in my tweens. This changed slowly to mix in mellow music like Portishead, Massive Attack, Burial and The XX. In my thirties I have shifted further into folk, jazz, classical and minimal electronica. I find epic jams in a minor key comforting, especially when I need to focus on work. 

But on the bike punk music reminded me that anger is an energy. I like raspy blunt music that doesn’t give a f*ck. Life is full of injustice but rather than cry about it, shout and rage. I vent my frustration into the pedals.

The elation of exertion comes as the heat hits my head, sweat literally rising as steam, my inner critic’s voice drowned out by millions of cells pulsing with positive, vital energy.

If I chose to, I can bring my ponderings back and see them beyond my body for what they are; a challenge that my body and I can deal with. Like attacking a mountain road or flowing single track.

The mind can push the body beyond reason.
I have learned that the body can push the mind back into it’s box

Matter over mind.