Monday, June 13, 2011

Learning to Ride A Bike Again

My truck has died and is likely on its way to the great truck heaven in the sky. And I have the arduous task of learning to ride a bike again.

As a child and teen my bicycles were very important to me. I bought quite a few at lawn sales, and kind of mixed-and-matched to pull the best parts off of each and create my ideal bike. In the end I had a red city bike with mountain bike tires and multiple special features, including a water bottle rack, a bag on the back, and some nifty looking reflectors. I loved that bike.

The bike I ride now is purple. That could be better. I'm not a fan of the color. But it's an alright bike, if you ignore the rust. Frankly, I feel like a teenager riding it around town. This is both good and bad. My teenage years were ... interesting. They weren't my happiest years, but they were the beginning of my freedom, and my bike symbolized that for me.

Now my bike is not freedom. It is cumbersome. They say you never forget how to ride a bike. You may not, but you have muscles that do, and after just two days on mine those muscles are screaming at me. I have to stop and walk the bike frequently as I work my way up to long distance riding.

The worst part is I can't work with the blind child I work with. He lives in a different city and until I have a vehicle again I have to stick with the job I do here. I feel that job is one of the best things I've ever done with my working life, and it kills me that I have to stop doing it for awhile. So although I feel like I am doing something good for the environment, I also feel like it is keeping me from something good I do for humanity.

This may be the universe's way of making me pay for driving an SUV for so many years, as if the pump prices and repair costs weren't enough...

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