Big City Life – Get Out For Once!
The crisis started with a minor little thing, and then it got bigger and bigger.
Thought processes got out of control and gave up. Yet the solution was so easy.
This isn’t about the economic crisis, nor about the Spanish identity dilemma, nor the whole Catalan independence activism. No, this is just about work. These stories could just as easily unfold in Zürich, San Francisco, or Rome with a straight-laced Swiss, an awesome American, or Mamma-Mia-Italian taking the starring role.
But coincidentally it happened here. In my life. Whilst I was trying hard to make my existence into a socially acceptable life, I decided a few years ago to follow the route of business school and a turbo-business life. Before I could look round, I was sitting in a suit with a self-confidence-generating watch on my wrist in one of the business towers on the
Plaza de Gloriés. A new world full of serious looks, social necessities, and at the same time one full of hope — at least at the start. My old passions – sport and a long-term relationship – were consciously given up.
Now I was married to my job. After all, you need to concentrate and give it your best if you want to get somewhere. Society sets the benchmark, with the media full of the glittering success stories of the stars and starlets of this world. If you measure yourself against this yardstick, the exciting, varied, apparently effortless lives of these idols, then you start to doubt in yourself.
And this is exactly where the crisis begins, my crisis. In the everyday monotony, in the normality which begins every day with a Starbucks cappuccino and the employee who, after all of these years, still can’t write my name correctly on the coffee cup. It continues with the
choleric boss and the long working days in front of a flickering monitor, where numbers flit past so fast that my eyes can’t even follow them. Variety? No chance! Fun? About as much as the biscuit gets excited as it’s dunked into lukewarm coffee and gulped down.
Is this what I studied so long for? Why I grafted in internships building up networks? I get home every evening worn out and yet somehow relieved. My last remaining ration of concentration is spent turning on the TV, whilst my only little bit of rebellion and freedom is the cool bottle of beer which I carefully swallow every evening.
There’s no time for sport, and even worse, no motivation. The pressure keeps going up and the expectations as well. Whilst the town slips into a never-ending rush hour, my life slips by day-by-day and I forget one thing: to take any time for myself. Make priorities and take action. What do I want? What am I good at, and what makes me feel good? After all, it should be me, not my boss, who decides about my life. I’m convinced that every person needs a hobby. A passion as a pressure valve for the everyday stress, as a meaningful element in your life.
I used to ride a mountain bike, but because of the long working hours these days I’m out of breath after a quick run along the seafront…not that I can be bothered to do that very often.
The best decision was my e-mountainbike. With it came the realisation that I don’t have to measure myself against every other person, their fitness, and their norms. My life is about me, and about how I make myself happy.
Barcelona has mountains. If you ride towards the sea it’s downhill all the way, but I wanted to go up. With the e-mountainbike I can stamp my way to freedom at twice the speed and even have a good time on the climbs — in-spite of my office-chair-emaciated legs.
And the best bit: the motivation barrier to get out and do some sport is overcome. And now it’s back, the optimism. Crisis overcome! Finally things are moving up at full speed — ideally aboard my e-mountainbike.
Words: Ferdinand Rodriguez Photos: Sebas Romero
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