Note:
This is my first entry in the Commuter Chronicles.
In the coming weeks, I will be writing about how I have
been getting to and from work as a bike commuter (and sometimes as a runner) in
order to exercise more and pollute less.
While this may seem like a step away from much of the adventure
writing that I typically post, I have also found that the bike commute serves
as a daily mini adventure, an adventure that presents challenges and rewards, an
adventure that connects me with the surrounding nature and community in
Southeastern Connecticut.
This first post will discuss ways in which routine helps
me to get out the door faster and better prepared for the world. Some future
topics that I will explore include, dealing with challenging road conditions, managing
sweat, how bike commuting has changed my relationship with work, bike repair,
and why I think small choices remain relevant in our era of big problems.
I hope you stick around and enjoy the ride!
As of a few months ago, I began taking my bicycle into my
bedroom. We’d entered a new phase in the relationship.
It is not that I love my steel-framed diamondback hybrid so
much that I can’t bear to be apart, or that I want its graceful lines to be the
first thing I see when I wake up in the morning. Ours is a marriage of convenience.
The bike takes me to work most days. It needs to be ready to
go, with nary a dilly, even a dally. I have 6-miles of road to cover door to
door. I have to be in the building, professional, and presentable, by 7:30am. Assuming
that I don’t want to get up at an egregious hour, mornings will require tight
choreography, not me stumbling down to a freezing basement to pick at the combo
lock with numbed fingers.
The fact that I keep the bike in the room is only one of a series
of morning habits that I follow in order to get on the road quickly over the
years. Mornings vary, but I generally get out the door 40 minutes after I wake
up. I now go down a checklist, and I have organized my apartment to facilitate
speedy egress.
This is no easy feat considering my abstract-random
personality and corresponding aversion toward structure. “Life hacks” and other
self-optimization strategies often seem like Trojan horses from the work
worship culture. Nonetheless, I hate getting bogged down by poorly shuffled gear.
The motorless commute succeeds for me, not only because I am committed to decreasing
my impact on the environment; it succeeds because I have planted that
commitment in a larger ecosystem of habits and routines.
Habits are more powerful than principles. One need only look
at how New Year’s resolutions go askance. The toughest habits to break, tend to
be “low friction,” according to psychologist Anne
Wood. This means that they only require a few easy steps. If I wanted to stop
wasting time on the internet, it would be much harder to break the habit, if time-wasting
sites were just a click away (this is a hypothetical example, obviously.) The
vice is practically frictionless. Driving also has low psychological friction. I
need only get in the car and turn the key.
Biking to work, with its many steps, is high friction. Sure,
you could just get dressed, hop on the bike, and roll out – if you like
jeopardizing your paycheck. Arriving,
clean, and professional, at the end of the ride, involves steps that driving
doesn’t require. These steps include packing work clothes, loading a bike rack,
checking the weather, and dressing properly for the conditions. All of this is long
before I start pedaling up the first hill.
So how is it that I choose not to spend an extra hour
beneath the covers when I wake up in the early morning dark? Why don’t I just drive
to work with everyone else? My answer is that I reduce friction. Preset routines
are like oil on the bike chain. They enable me to glide through my morning with
as few steps and as few decisions as possible.
Here are some strategies I use.
·
The Checklist.
I have a laminated checklist on the door telling me what to do throughout the morning. At one point, I would have thought that it was infantile to remind myself to brush my teeth or gather The Trinity (my keys, wallet, and cellphone.) from the bedside. I have finally accepted the truth: I can forget almost anything. This is especially true when I am groggy or feeling rushed in the morning. I make this easier by putting key items in exactly the same places, the night before. I feel much less anxiety, and move faster in the morning, when I know that there is a hard copy on the door to guide me right.
·
Workout Pajamas
Sleeping in workout clothes has been a common trick for the morning exercise crowd. It not only helps get things moving quickly; it also spares me the cold shock of changing clothes in a chilly room. I drape my riding jacket over the handlebars, so that I can slip right into it, along with my helmet and fanny pack.
·
The Fanny Pack.
The keys, wallet and cell phone go into a forward-facing fanny pack. The dorkiness is severe. However, I prefer this to the discomfort of cycling with all that stuff in my pockets. The fanny pack also allows me to drop keys and mask somewhere quickly when I lock my door. When I inevitably question whether I have forgotten one of these crucial items, I can spot them quickly without patting or digging.
·
Packing, Charging Ahead of Time
It is easy to load my bike up ahead of time when I keep it in the room with me. I make sure it is packed with all the clothes, food, and equipment that I could want. Putting things on the bike rack is preferable to using a backpack because I am less liable to sweat. I also have recently invested in a rechargeable handlebar light. It’s great, but also a hassle attaching and detaching the thing. Since the bike is already inside, however, I can just use an extension cord to charge the lamp in its place.
·
Pre-made breakfast
The fastest way out the door would be to
grab a Clif bar or a banana with no cooking. However, speed is not my only goal.
The pleasures of hot coffee and warm oatmeal are vital motivations on a cold
morning. I economize time by pouring out my instant oatmeal ahead of time, along
with peanut butter, raisins, and instant coffee on the side. All the water I
need is already waiting on a hot plate near the bed. I just plug it in. I can finish
last-minute chores while the water heats. (Pro-tip: Pour the instant coffee before
the water boils. It not only saves time on the stovetop; it will also be ready
to drink sooner.)
·
Slides over Sneakers
Yes, I’m lazy to the point that I would rather slip into my shoes than tie and untie them. This is also helpful when I get to work, and I have to change pants again.
· Gear at Work
I try to leave as many supplies as possible
at work. Often, I bring extra clothes or provisions in on days when I have to drive,
due to weather or other circumstances. I don’t have much space to store goods
in the building, but I have found that I have room to stash rolled-up dress
shirts, freeze-dried coffee, and meals. In a previous model of the bike
commute, I had arrived to work early and breakfasted in the breakroom. It
seemed to work out just fine. Unbeknownst to me, however, my early arrival had
been triggering a silent alarm — and a police department visit. This went on
for weeks until I discovered what was happening. My employer did not encourage the
arrangement. I now eat breakfast at home.
Following these routines may make mornings easier, but based
on the number of steps involved, you can see that they are far from frictionless.
These procedures have added value to my life in other ways, however, including helping
me become a better planning. For a long time, I have seen procedure as stifling,
antithetical to the fun creative person I perceive in myself. Over the years,
however, I have recognized that procedural minds have a talent for getting
things done. By borrowing their systemic mojo, I add value to my own unconventional
ethos.
Unfortunately, many of the lowest-friction routines in this
country also hurt the environment. It is easy to drive to our jobs, purchase pre-made
meals, and remain disengaged from public life or personal responsibility.
Politics, societal inertia, and commerce have put the least
psychological friction around driving and the most friction around all else. Creating
a community that welcomes non-drivers requires far more coordination than my
morning routine. It requires people working together to create research, interviews,
arguments, laws.
We are half-awake and have barely pulled the covers off. We’ll
be hard-pressed to get to work on time. A checklist is a good place to start.
No comments:
Post a Comment