68: Getting Back on the Bike

Last weekend I was cleared to ride my bike by my physical therapist. It's the first time I've been able to get on a bike in a little over a year, and I'm hoping to make a habit of it again; I haven't been able to ride regularly since fall 2021, when I injured my elbow badly enough that I needed to stop. I still need to be careful, and I tire much more easily than I used to, but I've missed it, and it feels good to be going fast again.

The specifics of the injury are pretty uninteresting: my left elbow aches almost constantly, and it gets worse if I do much with it. Thankfully I'm right-handed, but on bad days I have trouble opening jam jars or lifting things or driving or typing, which is a problem if I want to do most of the things I used to take for granted. If I rest my elbow on a hard surface–a bad habit, don't do it–it messes with one of the major nerves in my arm. Physical activity has turned into a calculus of the work I need to do and the things I can get away with doing. If I have to commute in to work, then I'm not going to be able to lift or type as much as I'd like on that day. If I need to write (for my day job or as a critic), then I have to consider what else I'll be doing so that my left arm isn't in pain for the rest of the day.

Physical therapy has given me a few tools to help manage that pain. It hasn't fixed anything. We're not sure that there is a fix for what's wrong with me; I can stretch, and I can exercise with care, and if I keep up with both things, I'll have better endurance. The pain's mild, all things considered, but the reality is that I'm simply not going to be able to do everything that I want to do. Part of the calculus of daily pain management has been learning what I value in everyday life. Not being able to drive isn't an option, so that activity stays. Knitting and videogames are hobbies I was willing to give up, so I don't do either any more. But I don't want to live a life without critical thought, and I think best when I write.

There isn't really a happy conclusion to any of this, and I don't want to be dramatic and equate The Life of the Mind with A Painful Existence, because that outlook sucks all the joy out of thinking. It's more of a question of what I prioritize in the day-to-day. Today, I'm going to go get back on the bike.

What I wrote:

In case you missed it a few weeks ago, my essay for Bright Wall/Dark Room about Michael Mann's Thief was reprinted over at RogerEbert.com. I'm really proud of this piece!

What I talked about:

For Seeing & Believing podcast, Kevin and I reviewed Landscape with Invisible Hand, an adaptation of a YA novel by M.T. Anderson. It's a weird movie! I chose to pair it with the Charlie Chaplin movie Modern Times.

Last week, I mentioned that we have an announcement about the future of Seeing & Believing. We're planning to sunset the weekly podcast when we reach 400 episodes, which should be in about a month. Seeing & Believing isn't going anywhere, though–we'll be publishing a weekly review newsletter under the same name instead. Stay tuned for more on that front in the coming weeks.

What I watched:

I caught the Oldboy restoration and re-release at the Music Box Theatre this past weekend. I'd been afraid to watch the film based on its reputation, but my Seeing & Believing cohost Kevin had praised the movie in the past, so we went to a screening together. I don't think I was prepared for the movie's sense of humor, but that's what won me over, especially in the first half; I appreciated the neo-noir attitude and the ironic sensibility, and especially Park Chan-Wook's style. I'm repulsed by the back half of the film, but in a way that doesn't lessen my admiration of what Park's doing. It's a messed-up movie! I can't say I'm glad I watched it, but I found the experience valuable, and I've been chewing on it throughout the week since.