After being a Radbotin for about half a year, I felt my legs while showering - wow! Wow, it feels great. More defined leg muscles, tight calves, a body that feels unbalanced after 3 days of vacation and cries out for a bike. That also worries me when I think about looking for a new job. Many colleagues who have moved up in the company and spend more time in the office than on the street, or who have just switched to other jobs, have fallen back into their armchairs. Apart from the character, I remember prolonged and severe winter depression before I became Radbotin. In many ways, this could be a healthy job.
As a Radbotin, you are prepared for any eventuality: tools, snacks, rain protection, certain things you always have with you. Over time, you know the city, the abbreviations, the confusing intersections and dangerous routes, the rush hour traffic. The sense of direction improves, the reflexes become faster, the internal navigation system and the estimation of distances or braking distances become more efficient, and one's own behavior in road traffic — even outside work — becomes more self-confident and alert. The head is clear. On sunny days when there is little traffic, you can really enjoy this acquired cycling botanist identity. Sometimes I enjoy them even when it rains or even when it snows, when I'm well equipped and everything fits. However, that is not always the case.
My two rain pants are now torn, the rain jacket provided by Mjam is no longer tight. My gloves are all full of holes. Most of my leggings also have torn knees from a few falls. The leggings wear out quickly, sunglasses get scratched, but that's not all that bad. The bike needs a lot of care. If the job isn't fun anymore, it's probably high time to service the bike. Oil, tighten the brakes or replace pads, change the chain - so that you replace the cassette all too often... anyone who has braked a rim has hopefully learned their lesson. Set the circuit. Replace ropes and structures. Perhaps the handlebar tape is already cracked and the saddle is no longer what it used to be. You may have already become accustomed to certain noises, but a freshly serviced bike gives you a whole new sense of life. Sometimes simply washing and cleaning lovingly is enough.
But I often just want to put the bike in the storage room or on the balcony and then take care of myself first. Then I forget or postpone it because seriously: I have other things to do than worry about my job! Then I hope it doesn't rain the next day at least because with these brakes it's a really unnecessary thrill. With a poorly maintained bike, the job quickly becomes physically and psychologically stressful. Is the time I invest in maintaining my bike the same that I need even more to recover if I don't take care of it?
When I talk to colleagues, I often hear: “You know, it's just a job for me. I don't identify with it.” I understand that well. As much as I like the cycling messenger scene, I'm not a freak myself. While some colleagues are happy to finally be able to cycle to where they want, I also like to do things other than cycling in my free time. Perhaps I would like to pursue a career as an artist. Maybe I'm thinking about doing some kind of education or resuming my studies. What other job would give me the freedom to do so? Maybe a job where I don't have to go home to take off my backpack, take off sweaty clothes and take a shower, but where I can do whatever I want right after work?
Before the collective agreement brought in night surcharges and there was no Sunday regulation, it was mandatory for a real employee to work in the evening and at least once on weekends. So I worked sometimes at noon, mostly in the evening and every Sunday evening. This has affected my social life: I have lost touch with my girlfriends in 9-5 jobs. For a while I only hung out with colleagues, or girlfriends who work in the restaurant or otherwise have similarly crappy working hours. In any case, that is not healthy - at least not for me. I could have worked 9-5 in the traditional courier service, but I didn't want to lose my ED position. As far as I know, there is not a single classic courier service in Vienna that actually offers permanent jobs. Since KV, this has improved because the company prefers to use freelancers for evening and weekend shifts, for whom they do not have to pay any surcharges. FDs love evening and weekend shifts because there's a lot of work involved. For them, that means a lot of orders per hour, i.e. a lot of income. I know that there is also little traffic in the evenings and weekends, but I'm happy to meet other friends in the evening and to be able to visit family on weekends.... When it's not exactly a lock down, of course.
So when the first lock down began just over a year ago, I barely did anything other than cycling for months. I didn't take a vacation, I was never ill. Even though I only work 20 hours, I've often dreamt of cycling. When I worked more than 25 hours - and in fact I actually cycle 25 hours a week even at 20 hours a week - I had often dreamt of cycling. How are colleagues who work full time? The FDs who work more than 50 or up to 80 hours a week? Do they see their families? friends? kids? Do they have time to look for another education? To pursue hobbies? To live?
I think it's either luxury or repression not to identify with this job. Maybe you say that as a student who only works about 15 hours a week, or as someone who simply gives up their human identity for the majority of their days and is instead a machine serving Delivery Hero or Takeaway — a DAX company that has never made a profit.
No, it is not just a job. It is our lifetime that we spend here powerlessly so that our future doesn't get any better. Rents and bills must be paid, friendships must be maintained and children raised, new perspectives must be found and better lives must be lived. Riders be Riders and Riders Unite!
