It’s many things.
It’s travel, as you cover great distances.
It’s suffering as you try, desperately, to hang onto the wheel in front of you.
It’s lightness, as you glide with perfect rhythm and symmetry.
It’s deafening as the blood punds in your ears and your legs scream on a 20% climb.
It’s focussed and sharp as all around you is blurred when you hit 50 on a descent.
It’s taking the p*ss out of your (club)mates in the café and eating cake with impunity.
It’s the hard miles in winter, and the benefit in summer.
It is, when it all comes together, the volupté that Jean Bobet describes. A bit like flying, just above the ground.