Last night I got on my bike for the first time in what had to be at least 5 years. I was terrified. And I hated it. I didn't hate being on the bike, I hated that I was terrified.
It's true, what they say, that you never forget how to ride a bike. But I forgot how to be fearless. Crazy handed me his helmet before getting started, and whereas when I was a young teenager I shunned even the thought of having to wear a helmet, this time I readily accepted.
Pushing off, I wobbly made it down the street before coming to stop to wait for Crazy because I'd decided I was too wobbly to turn around yet. I slowed down through the turns. I took 3 more blocks of leg burning uphill pedaling before I was comfortable enough to stand up and pedal. We accidentally came to a dead end so Crazy turned around and hopped the curb--I turned around and walked the bike down.
I've already convinced myself that it's because my bike was out of tune that I was so scared of riding it or taking the turns too fast. But I know it's not. It's me. Where did the carefree-ness of just DOING it go? Just letting go and trying it without considering the consequences? I guess some people would consider that being responsible. I think it's being chicken-shit.
My resolution?
I will not be Poultry #2. Watch out, cycling, I'm coming back.
1 comment:
A postscript:
My bum hurts today from the bicycle seat. I do not have a bike friendly bum.
But still, watch out!
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