I will the machine.

Photo © Tristan Sheldon

“Forward motion is authorized internally.”

_____

My name is Genna. I’m a 31-year-old trauma-informed writer, speaker, and ultra-endurance cyclist. In 2013, before graduating high school, I was kicked out of my family home by my parents after an adolescence squandered by domestic violence, hoarding, and narcissistic abuse. Fearful, consistently displaced, but convicted to remain the authority of my future, I picked up bike racing, using the deconstruction of generational and cognitive patterns to draw a new, unruled map.

For five years, I lived in a classic van to self-support my ambitions, previously held the 240-mile women’s Katy Trail record twice, am most liberated when soloing between cities, and my imminent objectives involve ultra-distance road races like the Mishigami Challenge and Trans-Am Nonstop, as well as the publication of my first book, Reorganism: A Metacognitive Resistance.

This is an ongoing collection of essays documenting my progress, and moreover, pulling apart ideas of human consciousness and what drives us to do what we do, on bikes or otherwise.

Latest Posts

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  • Ex Nihilo

    “The members of a tree who do not conform to the norms or traditions of the family system, those who since childhood have constantly sought to revolutionize beliefs, going against the paths marked by family traditions, those criticized, judged and even rejected, these are usually called to free the tree of repetitive stories that frustrate…

  • Reorganism: 403

    “I have never met someone more uncomfortable than when I have been calm, and experienced no one more convicted than when I have been reactive.” _____ In over 25,000 words on my website, I have only used the term “narcissistic,” or its derivatives, twice. Yet a majority of my essays contain descriptions of such patterns…

  • For Whom the Bell Tolls: A Question of Tax and Tribulation for a Record Ride

    This essay is a follow-up to Goin’ Up on a Tuesday: A Question of Ethics and Advantage for a Record Ride. _____ The original radiator in my 1985 finally popped steam when I was headed to work on Friday morning. The wind was going to be adverse for the second available weekend I had to attempt…

  • You Can’t Tell Me S***: A Podcast

    Dear readers, I have launched both an introduction and the first episode of You Can’t Tell Me S***, an audio extension of the blog where I look more closely at the advice and mantras handed to us by culture and why I tend to question them. The link to my channel is below, and will…

  • In Lieu of Elaborate Metaphor

    I sat across a table from a counselor who gave me all of the trained correct responses. “That sounds like it’s really hard.” “I understand why you’re struggling with this.” “Wow.” Meanwhile, I am measuring the hole created by spinning tires for most of my adult life. And I’m watching that same logic/emotion dual thought…

  • Metronome: Newsletter 04

    I’ve had some ask what the impetus is to keep coming back to the rail trail for big distances when I could just as soon start them from my front door and go anywhere else. The cold little voice on my shoulder says it counts less, and I giggle because the pain inflicted by monotony…

  • Reorganism: The Atoms in California

    This reactor of mine has gone still. The air hums like all is as it should be, but I cannot ease the feeling that I could cause the spontaneous fission of atoms in California at any time. I have come to insist that the impact of one consciousness against another may also abide by the…

  • Nobody’s Follower

    Dear reader, I continue to promise that another book essay will be next, and then something else jumps out at me. I have learned recently that you tend to latch onto what I write when a wire is hot more than when I try to be disciplined. I have to keep following that. _____ I…

  • Daisies

    An Unexpected Prologue to Good Morning, Vietnam _____ I walked into a hospital room and said hello to someone I had met the day before for the exact same task. Very quickly, they mentioned something about “how hard we work,” and I replied with “Well, I just got here this morning, so I am fresh…

  • The Bar

    I spent only a couple months as a barista at a hospital coffee shop this summer. I left because management expected me to stay available to them off-the-clock, which is a ‘no’ from me. The only latte I’ll concern myself with on my own time is the one in my clammy post-ride hands. But while…

  • To Speak Volumes

    It’s been a month. Let me assure you that a period of silence from me is, generally, a very good thing. _____ Last week, I betrayed my plan for a rest week to go find a friend on the trail. Someone I knew only though shared humor on the internet, whose face I had never…

  • Shall We?: Newsletter 03

    I appreciate your patience while so much has broken in my hands. For the first time in nearly a year, I had a normal week on the bike. I put my ultra rig back together after harvesting it for parts recently, took a spin around the neighborhood, and didn’t want to put it away. The…

  • Part II: White Dragon

    _____ I bring a sort of investigative vibe to small incidents that people convinced of their own stories don’t really like. _____ A woman cloaked, in ornate robes, stands aghast as a stone fortress is erected in front of her. The carved walls look identical to her drawings, even more grand than the version before…

  • Disinterest Rates

    I’m a hard sell, because I am a documentarian amongst salesmen. They ask for a moment of my attention, yet I am hardly curious of their pitch. I am looking for their incentive. Do they have something they genuinely believe I need, or am I purely another cold call? _____ Once, I answered an open…

  • Beware of Documentarian

    The problem that arises with the pop-psych emphasis on self-worth is that it ignores how incredibly dangerous it is to possess when you have no power. I have teeth today. Proceed with caution. I left a job abruptly again because it routinely demanded my attention off-the-clock and threatened consequence if I didn’t pay it. The…

  • No Elephants Past This Point

    I will invoke my own rule again. I will cut off the elephant’s head and mount it to my wall there is no tension, or unspoken truth left standing in this hall And so, I raise my sword. _____ “When you call me out, you are judge, jury, and executioner. You’re putting me on trial…

  • Part I: Gray Fox

    If I’m honest, I don’t really write to make sense of my life or to process emotions. That has generally already happened before I get here, because that feels like the most responsible way to handle sensitive material. It seems that I write because I was born into a household where reality was already being…

  • What Happens in Grandio City

    May be subject to the Uno reverse. _____ Please review Municipal Code §7, wherein it is stated, “You are harder than ten men.” Not my words. I was amongst many on that day, and the following still occurred: I rolled out of the parking lot for the regular Tuesday evening ride. Five of us missed…

  • Reorganism: Air Traffic Control

    Every once in a while, I meet somebody that quiets the mind and has me paying closer attention simultaneously. Last spring, I was invited on a gravel ride and carpooled an hour and a half away with somebody that had that effect. On the way there, I remember listening for how well this person seemed…

  • They Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

    Every sun that rises or falls while in motion is another volume I add to my collection. Another thing I can say “I was there” for. Another fraction of a millisecond in the universe’s observation of itself through my eyes. Of which I only feel like I’ve done my job well when it’s paired with…