You own the road at 45mph
A lesson I've been failing to learn for the last 20 years.
In high school I was on the newspaper staff. Senior year I was co-editor and chief of our school newspaper and I had an opinion column entitled “The World According to Abi.” This fact, I’m sure, surprises no one who knows me.
Considering this was nearly 20 years ago, I have a surprisingly good memory of the topics of my semi-monthly columns. There were some legit bad takes as only a 16-17-18 year old can have (maybe it’s kinder to say there were some decent takes made with *very* limited information, haha). But one column, and one experience, in particular stands out as a lesson the Universe has been trying to teach me since the fall of my senior year.
This piece was called, “You Own the Road at 45,” and I shared a personal experience I had had while on a college visit road trip in September of 2006. The story I shared went something like this:
A friend and I were driving from our small Kansas town all the way to the big city of Nashville so I could visit colleges there. We were both musicians, so it made sense to move to a music city for school. On the way there, driving through the drizzling rain somewhere near Paducah, Kentucky, my 2004 Dodge Stratus (insert Will Ferrell Voice here) suffered a flat tire. Now this was my first flat tire (first of VERY MANY I might add) and I had no idea what to do. Luckily I had received a AAA membership from my Grandmother that past Christmas. So we called, they sent a tow truck driving named Billy who swapped the regular tire for the car’s donut that was securely hidden under the piles of luggage and instruments we brought with us.
Once the donut was on, we were instructed that we could not drive more than 45mph, and while Billy didn’t tell us what would happen if we did, we just assumed the whole car would explode and followed the instructions with the utmost care. What would have been another few hours to Nashville turned into close to five or six. This obviously was upsetting as we had already been on the road for several hours. But this frustration faded as I realized that driving this speed was so much more relaxing. I no longer had to worry about turning on and off the cruise, or trying to pass people, or looking for cops along the side of the road. Despite it taking longer than we had hoped, it was one of the best road trip experiences of my life.
I wrote the column espousing the virtues of slowing down, relaying how much more enjoyable the experience was at 45 than it was at 80. But as so many epiphanies experienced at 17, it soon faded and I went right back to speeding (and even spent a day in jail because of it).
I’ve had many other brushes with this lesson over the last nearly 20 years, and while each was powerful in it’s own way, I was clearly not ready to integrate it fully, that is, until the last eight months or so. Back in March I got rid of my truck and have committed to doing more of my life by bike. This, as you could imagine, has resulted in a drastic reduction of the average speed of my life.
What used to take 20 minutes, now sometimes takes 40 (but also, some drives that used to take a hour and a half now only take 40 minutes because traffic). I spend most of my time moving at around the 14mph mark instead of flying down the road at 40 or 60 or 80. And while I could shout from the rooftops all the incredible benefits of cycling as transportation, what I’m really reveling in right now, is how this shift in my lifestyle has finally hit home this lesson after nearly 20 years. Now, not only am I traveling at much safer speeds in and around town on a daily basis, the slowing down seems to be penetrating all other aspects of my life.
Even as I’ve added so much more to my schedule in the past few months, like going back to college, being the chair of the board of my spiritual community, accepting a position on the Bicycle Advisory Committee for the City of Austin, volunteering for Austin Bicycle Meals, as well as being a spouse, parent, and running my own business (and writing these little thought pieces), I’ve continued to slow down. Contrary to popular belief (and truly my own beliefs), this slowing down has actually made room for more of what makes my life worth living.
I was struck by how enriched my life has become just a couple days ago while taking some slow moments in the midst of a seemingly busy day. I had ridden to Stouthaus to study for my upcoming Spanish test, then road to class (where I had to take the test TWICE due to computer issues) and because I had my Bicycle Advisory Committee meeting that evening at City Hall, I chose not to rush home and try to rush back and instead just stayed downtown.
I spent my afternoon at the Central Library in downtown Austin which is a wonderful space full of life and community and is quickly becoming one of my favorite places to spend time in Austin. I read and journalled, listen to an audio book and ate an orange while sitting outside and watching the grackles soar through the city skyline. It was deeply peaceful, slowly drawing me into a contemplative mind and heart space.
I could feel my thoughts slow. Even my physical movements seemed like they were happening at half speed. I left the library so I could eat dinner before the meeting and rode the couple blocks over to Flower Child, very cute restaurant that splits the difference between a full-service sit down restaurant and the fast-casual establishments that have become to popular in Austin. The food is always good, but on this particular day, it was an experience. I wasn’t just trying to shovel food into my mouth to fuel the next several hours of my day. I could really taste the food, and it was delicious.
I felt so alive in that moment. Alive in a way that I have no access to when my mind, heart, and body get pushed into overdrive. I could taste, I could smell, I could see. And it felt like things really clicked for me in this slow space. The saying, “Wisdom is chasing you, but you’ve always been faster” has been rattling around in my head and heart the past several weeks, and in this moment, sitting on the sidewalk in downtown Austin, I feel as though I finally slowed down enough for this Wisdom to catch me.
I slowed down enough for Peace to catch me.
I slowed down enough for Life to catch me.
This saying is not only hilarious, but quite damning of our speed-obsessed culture. We move so fast, and this speed creates so many of the issues we keep trying to outrun, thus creating more issues. What would happen if we slowed down? What would happen if we were doing 45 instead of 80, or 15 instead of 45? I’m sure it would be easy to suggest we could solve all of our culture’s problems through this way of thinking and being, but I know that on some level the slowing process would also mean that our grief would catch us just as quickly as our joy (or maybe even faster). And maybe that’s why we don’t do it.
I’ve certainly experienced this. The slowness has brought me into a painful reality just as much as it’s brought me into a joyous one. But it’s clear to me they are the same reality. If we want real joy, we have to feel real pain. Not exactly the business deal of the century. But it’s the deal we’re being offered. To slow down and feel pain that is lifegiving, instead of the speed-induced, life-draining malaise we’ve been living with for so long as the landscape become a blur around us.
I am obviously new to this slow life, but I can feel how the seeds planted nearly two decades ago are finally starting to sprout. I have a sense that there is more that has been chasing me, both good and bad, that are finally going to have the chance to catch me. I’m excited for what this process will reveal in me and for me. I know it won’t always be happy rainbows and butterflies, but it will be sometimes. And I know that even pain and death have meaning and are a beautiful expression and experience of life.
What has been chasing you? What would life be like if you finally let it catch you?
I've been driving 55 on the highway the past few years and I agree, it has been a significant factor in feeling more peaceful and having a LOT less road rage.
I've also been through a very rough year in which I felt a lot of grief for a particular thing which then allowed the grief I'd been feeling most of my life to fall out as well. I've learned a lot about myself and my impact on others. And I've been slowly discovering what my other feelings and needs are, too, which have always been elusive. I'm grateful for the slowing down and for the grief blow that broke me open.