Happy spring everyone!
As you all know, I have shared many of my experiences here, blogging all those firsts; my first bubble bath, my first “Oh S*&T moment in the gym. And keeping true to form, I’m led to share my latest adventure dubbed, “As easy as riding a bike.”
Since this journey began, I have been working hard to cross things off my bucket list. I have not lived in full-color for some time, and many activities like riding a bike, have only been enjoyed as Dan the child and not Dan the man. For instance, I haven’t ridden a bike since I was 12 years old. I remember the simplicity of life back then, when the world could be seen from the back of my Huffy and summer rides lasted from sun up until sun down. Some days I’d imagine I was Evil Knievel or maybe even the Fonz, but one thing was for certain—I was the king of the road.
Recently, my sister offered me her bike, to use for the summer, since running with this bad leg just hasn’t worked out for me. I was leery, at first. I haven’t been on a bike in well over 30 years, and that 600 pound gorilla stigma still follows me around from time to time (I seriously forget I’ve lost 350 plus pounds). However, as a firm believer in the “you gotta try” motto, I took her up on that offer and headed out with my angel in tow (a.k.a my partner in crime, a.k.a TL, a.k.a my co-writer Patricia Garber).
Revelation one: The seats are not as big as I remember! Revelation two: You will hurt in all the wrong places!
I was off like a flash. I zipped up that the first hill, with my pretty angel right behind me, peddling her little heart out, and took the neighborhood by storm. I waved. People honked. And then, like a horse headed for the barn at feeding time, I rounded Wilson Blvd and made a b-line for Pope Avenue, my old stomping grounds.
There I was, in the old neighborhood, back where I once ruled. I’d grown up in these alleyways, and before I knew it, I was yelling out the sights like a regular tourist guide; “There’s where grandmother lived,” I shouted to TL over my shoulder. Adrenaline pumping, and without even awaiting for a response, I flew through Pope and crossed over to the Rose Hill Cemetery. I got to tell you, there are a lot of hills in that place, but nothing can match the peacefulness I felt inside the quiet. I rode up one side and down the other, loving the feel of the cool breeze in my hair.
OPS! Wait a minute, back up. How about, I loved the cool breeze across my bald head? (Wink)
Any-who, it wasn't long before I heard TL yelling, “No more hills!” which of course meant, I took the very next hill available. (My bad)
I have to tell you folks, I’ve never felt younger in my life. This new bucket list accomplishment has renewed my excitement, my determination to live a healthier life, and has now become a full on obsession. I ride everywhere and for everything. Need toilet paper? Let’s take a ride—a ride we shall call “the ride to wipe.” (LOL) Need to drop off books at the library, let’s ride down town and when we’re done have some coffee in the square. I’m pumped!
What’s next? Zip lining—you know it! Backpacking—I want to try it! Trail hikes—absolutely. I’m living to live friends. Life is beautiful. Now, go dust off your bike and ride like the wind.
See you on Pope Ave.