You never forget how to ride a bike.

Isn’t it funny how bikes kind of mark different achievements in your life? For me, getting my first bike was a huge deal. I mean, it was the biggest toy I had ever received and it was the end of dolls and stuffed animals. This fabulous thing was proof that I was no longer a baby, but a “big girl”.

Then comes the day where you take the training wheels off. Terrifying! It is one of those moments in life where you want to achieve this goal SOOO bad but you are absolutely scared to the point of wetting your pants…or at least I was. Never a fan of injuries, it seemed very risky to me that you would ride something that goes this fast with no safety net. But, the training wheels must come off to prove that you are as awesome as your friends and older siblings so off they go. LOL, I remember having that infamous conversation that every child in the world has when going through this process: “You PROMISE that you won’t let go???” “Yes, I won’t let go now just try it!!!” but of course your parent or big sister was planning to and did let go and you fall. And then you fall again. And again. Again…and then you make your first full peddle before crashing! “Oh thank goodness, there is hope!” Then, after a few scraped knees and fights about the broken promise “to not let go” you get it. You are officially in the two-wheel club! Once you join the two-wheel club, you never leave it. I guess it’s like walking, you just never lose that knack for it.

My bike was my freedom as I got older. I loved nothing more than to just jump on my awesome, red and silver, aluminum framed, Mongoose 21 speed. I wonder how many miles I rode that thing…? At that time we were a one car family, so I lived to hear my mom say that we needed milk or chips so that I could jump on the chance to ride up to Kash N’ Karry. Sometimes, I would just ride around the neighborhood having some good thinking time to myself or join my friend Sandy and help her with her church’s bread ministry. We rode every day at 1:00pm to her church to unload pallets of leftover or day-old bread from the truck and stack it in the bread room to give out to people who needed help. That was the highlight of it all, it felt so wonderful to be helping people as an independent-almost-adult.

Life kicked in after that though, and jobs require cars, not bikes. So we pack our bikes away and face our new reality of time-sheets and bosses and that horrible word our parents yelled 190,000,000,000,000 times: responsibility. Ugh.

Not long after that new phase kicked in, God gave me a new friend who, very quickly, became the focus of my life. Wedding bells, name change, moving, apartments, pets, in-laws, holidays… no room for bike rides now. We are now a two person family with two cars (even though mine doesn’t go very far) and no time or need for the dirty, now some-what rusted Mongoose that still sits in my parents back yard. Four years pass by and my brother borrows it for a while and my sister uses it occasionally but it eventually makes its way back to my apartment. I thought about it once in a while and it was still something that I felt attached to, but still, it sat idle.

Then yesterday our car bit the dust without warning. My car was on loan to my brother and our main car gave out on a trip to the grocery store. Now what? We never made it to Publix and we are literally out of everything in the pantry. “Hey, what about my bike? You just put air in the tires the other day, let’s get it out.” I said to Michael. So we pulled it out of hiding and I walked it (not rode it) to the open area of grass across the street. It had been soooo long since I rode it…what if I totally forgot how and fell off like a dork in front of my hubs?! Yes, I’m still trying to impress him. No, I don’t know why. I get on it and start off…a little wobbly at first but then a rush of memories hit me like the bugs that fly into your eyes and nose as you peddle down the street. This felt GOOD.

Now we are able to get to the store so we don’t starve to death while the car is still dead Right now, Michael is riding my freshly washed bike home from Publix with a backpack full of basics as I write this. I guess we’ve come full circle now, huh? Once again, my bike has become the means for independence from needing rides here and there from other people. Of course, the car has to be fixed because we are grown-ups now but I intend to fully enjoy my bike for now and even after the car is up and running. I don’t know why I ever gave it up in the first place…even if my bum is mega sore today 😛