I rode a bike today. First time in about 30ish years. For a brief moment while rolling the bike out of the back room and down to the alley, this scene flashed through my mind:
As much as I would love to have Jamie Tartt by my side as I got comfortable on a bike again, I sought support from a different place.
My sweet, funny, wonderful 11 year old rocked it as my moral support. He shared tips to keep my balance and reminded me when to lean in to turn. Additionally, he explained the best times to adjust my speed or use my handbrakes. That's right. The last time I rode a bike I applied the brakes by pedaling backwards. No handbrakes.
It wasn't terrible. I enjoyed the feel of the wind on my face. I sped up and coasted. I stood up on my feet to pedal a couple of times (felt pretty cool). I made a ridiculously wide turn the first time. I even earned my first ever exercise award for an outdoor cycle!
The biggest success was working through the initial anxiety of getting back on a bike after so long. Rather than worry that I would look foolish in front of my youngest son, I decided to ask for his help. It worked out so well. He rode along side me and was the best bike buddy.
I only biked for 20 minutes at the end of my street. It was more than enough. My legs could feel it. I was sweating which isn't my favorite thing to do. (80 degree weather - what are you gonna do?) My 11 year old was ready for me to go up and down the absurd incline that is our street. While it felt great to be back on a bike, I think I will have to work up to that. Eventually, we'll hit some of the trails around our neighborhood; and perhaps someday I'll tackle White Rock Lake.
In the meantime, I am happy knowing I didn't forget how to ride a bike. Now to get some sparkly tassels...
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