I had a Trikke-related epiphany! Or was it a life-related epiphany? Hmm. Probably both, now that I think about it …
There I was, struggling to get up a half-mile-long hill I had resolved to conquer in one, no-stops-allowed push. The peak was within baseball-throwing distance, but I didn’t have enough gas left in my tank to get there if I kept up my current pace. My goal in jeopardy, I threw caution to the wind and cut my exertion level by half; even if the new tactic didn’t work out, I’d have had to stop anyway – so why not try a different approach that might provide a chance at success?
To my shock and immeasurable pleasure, Apollo (my beloved T78cs) kept moving forward at a speed that seemed to be only slightly less than that achieved by much greater effort. One would think that more work equals more speed, right? Nope, not this time! Less work clearly produced almost the same speed. And I wasn’t winded when I reached the top of the hill! If you, dear reader, can offer a logical explanation as to why this phenomenon exists, please leave a comment below – Trikke-O-Babbling minds wanna know!
“… riding a Trikke is a rocking, rolling allegory for life itself.”
After coasting blissfully downhill, I tested out this new, less-work technique on a steep bridge. (You know how I am. This analytical brain of mine demands testing and verification of discoveries like this; if it’s not reproducible, it never happened.) And what do you know, it occurred again – I bested the bridge with relative ease and was cruising the downslope before I knew what hit me!
On the car ride home, my brain took hold of this epiphany and began to make connections. Soon my head was filled with instances in which I had tried too hard to accomplish something – as I am woefully wont to do – and, though the desired result was achieved, it was inordinately hard-won. Then came memories of other (and, regrettably, far fewer) tasks into which I had thrown my whole heart but had to let go of before I unintentionally and wholly choked the life out of them. Oddly enough, these latter tasks almost exclusively ended with better and infinitely more enjoyable results than tasks for which I tried entirely too hard.
It strikes me that riding a Trikke is a rocking, rolling allegory for life itself. Epiphanies I have while carving directly and invariably relate in some simple, profound way to an aspect of my life with which I have struggled for many years. Everybody knows that regularly riding a Trikke improves one’s body. Who knew it could improve your personal life too?!