Detour

Cycle of Life

Donnie Seals Sr. and Eric D. Seals stand with their bikes in front of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis before embarking on the 386-mile ride to Chicago.
Donnie Seals Sr. and Eric D. Seals stand with their bikes in front of the Gateway Arch in St. Louis before embarking on the 386-mile ride to Chicago. Timothy M. Schmidt

Summer is here, and the bike is beckoning. Whether you’re rolling through the tree-lined boulevards of Chicago, cruising along Montreal’s Lachine Canal, or dodging tourists in London’s Southbank, cycling is veering from its traditional paths.

Cycling, these days, is healing in motion, says Donnie Seals Sr., a 72-year-old Chicagoan and survivor of three open heart surgeries. Seals and his son Eric, a filmmaker, chronicle their harrowing cycling journey from St. Louis to Chicago - 386 miles in 4 days - in “Bike Vessel”, a heartwarming documentary available to watch on PBS’ Independent Lens offshoot that celebrates kinship, connection, and familial love while shedding light on health inequities plaguing Black men.

As reviewer Robert Ebert.com puts it: “The film illuminates two major factors as culprits for the shorter lifespans African Americans routinely experience compared to their white counterparts: the unhealthy culturally specific diets most Black folks hold over from slavery—foods based on fat and salt—and the stress of needing to succeed against the racism of corporate America.”

Seals’s saga starts with a cell phone video. One afternoon in 2019, his daughter-in-law invites him to play tennis and son Eric records the match on his cell phone.

Afterward, Seals, who once viewed himself as athletic, watches the video and is mortified by the out-of-shape old man he has become.

“I was so embarrassed,” he says now. “It wasn’t just how I looked—it was how I couldn’t move. I bought the bike the day after I saw that video. That was it.”

The shakeup saved his life.

For years, Seals had taken his health for granted, drinking, smoking, eating fatty foods and enjoying life. By 1995, he had risen to director at a large tech firm, a high-stress job managing complex corporate networks at the dawn of the internet era. And then, on a business-as-usual workday, something strange happened.

“I leaned over to a colleague in a meeting and said, ‘I feel funny.’ Hours later, I was in open-heart surgery.”

That was the first of three heart operations.

“I went on long term disability,” he says. “Then 10 months later, I had the second open heart surgery, and after the second open heart surgery, I was released from my company.”

The change was jarring, he says. His income shrank. His identity unraveled. “I wasn’t living, I was just existing.”

“I’d been corporate. IBM. Hitachi. I was a numbers guy. A geek. Then I was just… home.”

The father-and-son duo ride together on day three of their journey. The ride from St. Louis to Chicago took a total of four days.
The father-and-son duo ride together on day three of their journey. The ride from St. Louis to Chicago took a total of four days. Timothy M. Schmidt

He adds: “But you know what, I realized I’m doing fine without making that money. I don’t have to buy the suits and have to have the car, you know.”

The other realization: he also didn’t need to sit around the house, sedentary. After the embarrassing tennis video, Seals, 65 at the time, purchased a Cannondale road bike.

As it turned out, Seals found plenty of company. Since the COVID-19 pandemic, Black cycling has exploded. In cities like Chicago, the number of non-white cyclists increased by 166% between 2019 and 2023, according to Axios Chicago, correlating with enhanced bike infrastructure and a rise in zero-car households. Meanwhile, Black cycling clubs have blossomed nationally, whether its Philadelphia’s Kings Rule Together/Queens Rule Together, Black Watts Cycling Club in New Jersey, The Regulators Cycling Club in St. Louis, to Black People Ride Bikes in Baltimore.

For Seals, the learning curve was nonetheless steep. “When I bought the bike, the bike store was three miles from my house, and I’m thinking, Okay, I’ll just ride home,” Seals recalls. “Wow, I couldn’t make it home. I end up walking the bike home…I spent like, $1,000 on this bike, and I’m like, I gotta ride this bike. So, I rode that bike every day, every day, three times a day, around the block, quarter mile. A quarter mile, and that’s all I could do.”

Over time, Seals found that he was riding 30, sometimes 50 miles at a stretch - often with his son, Eric. After the pandemic, Eric had a proposition for dad: why not cycle from St. Louis to Chicago - and film the entire journey?

The result isn’t just a documentary – it’s a reckoning. They ride Route 66. They weather headwinds. At one point, they deal with four flat tires in 10 miles. The film, produced by Eric’s company, Digife, doesn’t shy away from the tension - stubborn, sweaty, silent moments as they chase each other up the road. But they also bond.

“I didn’t have to talk to Eric. I knew what he was going to do, when he was going to do it. That’s how tight we were by then.”

These days, Seals plays pickleball and stays on a strength training schedule. He’s a member of the Elmhurst Bike Club in suburban Chicago, a 500-member group where cyclists ride everything from casual five-milers to 100-mile century treks. He also joined a Christian cycling group—attracted largely to its cultural rainbow of cyclists.

Donnie Seals Sr. prepares for an early start to day three of their four day ride. Seals started biking after deciding that a lifestyle change was necessary in order to better his health.
Donnie Seals Sr. prepares for an early start to day three of their four day ride. Seals started biking after deciding that a lifestyle change was necessary in order to better his health. Eric D. Seals

“They were speaking Spanish, French, Portuguese. I thought: this is beautiful,” he said. “The fellowship, the spirit—it brought me to life.”

Perhaps more importantly, Seals is now an inspiration to people struggling with issues around health or life purpose. His message is simple.

“We always say tomorrow isn’t promised. But I’ll tell you—today isn’t either,” he says. “Find your vessel. For me, it was the bike. For you, maybe it’s dance. Or swimming. Or gardening. Whatever it is—find it. And do it until it hurts. That’s where the growth is.”

5 Cities Made for Cycling

Whether it’s for culture, commuting, or pure joy, these bike-friendly cities can enrich travel for tourists and locals alike:

Amsterdam, Netherlands – Over 60 percent of locals commute by bike. Ride the canals, ferry to Noord, or explore hidden courtyards by pedal.

Accra, Ghana – A growing cycling scene uses bikes as tools of expression and resistance in Black communities.

Montreal, Canada – 400-plus miles of bike paths—including the lush Lachine Canal—offer rides through art, parks, and historic quarters.

London, England – Cycle along the Thames or explore cultural hubs like Brixton and Peckham on designated bike highways.

Bogotá, Colombia – Home to Ciclovía, where 70-plus miles of roads are closed weekly for public cycling, dancing, and celebration.

Black Cyclists Who Inspire

The face of cycling, once viewed as a predominately white sport and pastime, is changing fast. From advocacy to athleticism, Black cyclists are riding with purpose and power.

Ayesha McGowan - The first African American woman on a professional road racing team. She’s also the founder of A Quick Brown Fox, an advocacy platform promoting inclusion in cycling.

Rahsaan Bahati - Former U.S. national champion, mentor, and founder of the Bahati Foundation, dedicated to supporting inner-city youth through cycling and education.

Justin and Cory Williams - The Los Angeles brothers started racing as teens and are now a dominant force in the American crit racing scene. Justin, Cory, and brother CJ launched L39ION of Los Angeles to increase diversity and inclusion in cycling.

Ron Stodghill is the founder and publisher of DETOUR.

This story was originally published June 12, 2025 at 1:15 PM with the headline "Cycle of Life."

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