Just Like Riding a Bike

Since my 6-year-old learned to ride a bike without training wheels last week, my husband has gone bike riding with him every night. It’s a nice time for them to go out together and bond. My hubby also bought a pretty sweet bike of his own and suggested that I go out with our boy during the day to keep practicing. Now that I’m writing full-time (yay!), I have to make a concerted effort to exercise every day. I have about 7 pounds to go on baby weight, and though I (mostly) fit into my old clothes, I want to get rid of those last few. If I’m really motivated, I’d like to lose 12 pounds. But beggars can’t be choosers. Unless I’m willing to surrender all sweets and Cokes, it ain’t gonna happen. And I’ll admit that there are definitely days when a cold Dr. Pepper is quite inspirational when it comes to writing a scene.

So, after revising about sixty pages today, I decided to attempt to ride my husband’s bike, which shall hereafter be known as the Wheels of Death. Now, it’s not that big of a deal to ride a bike that’s taller. As long as you can get on it, you’d figure that getting off isn’t that bad. Heck, when I was a kid, I rode my mother’s bike, and I had my own way of dismounting: coast to a slower speed, swing both legs to the side, and throw your body off while the bike is still moving.

I tried the Extremely Dangerous Braking Technique on hubby’s bike and nearly took out a plum tree in the garden. Oh. My. Goodness. While it’s a very nice bike, the thing is enormous. I decided that death wasn’t worth it, so I pulled out the Ancient-Bike-That’s-Older-Than-Me from the shed. The seat wobbles, it has no leather on the metal handlebars, and it also is rather scary for braking. On the bright side, it’s about six inches shorter.

Then I had to borrow hubby’s helmet. Remember when nobody wore helmets? Heck, I remember when we rode on each other’s bike handlebars and seatbelts were optional in cars. Car seats? I never rode in one. Lordy, it’s a wonder we made it to adulthood.

Anyhoo, I’ll admit, I was a little peeved because the darned bike helmet didn’t fit, even though it’s adjustable. The thing wasn’t exactly stable on my head. Part of me wanted to ditch it entirely, but sadly, parents must be role models. Safety first.

So, it was with a bit of trepidation that I ventured forth into the neighborhood. I convinced myself that you never forget how to ride a bike. At least, that’s what they say. And since I haven’t ridden a bike in, oh, 13 years, I was hoping this would be the case. Thankfully, I didn’t crash into any cars, scrape my knees, or take down my six-year-old.

There’s always tomorrow.

So what about you? When was the last time you went bike riding?