Remembrances

I want to ride my bicycle

I’ve always been a little different. I guess you could call me a late bloomer. I don’t mean in the romantic sense, although that would count. But no, that’s not what I opened up my freshly updated version of WordPress to blog about today.

Once upon a time, when I was a wee lassie, I had a big wheel. You know, three-wheeled plastic monsters, with streamers attached to the handle bars (at least for the girlie ones). I would get on and pedal, except I would pedal backwards. This was of such concern to my mother that at my next checkup with the pediatrician, she told her about it. And I burst into tears. Ah, my oldest memory of shame. And while we’re on the subject of memories, do you ever wonder if these snapshots of your life that have been ingrained on your mind for so many years, aren’t real memories? Sometimes I wonder if this really happened. But I would never ask my mother. I don’t want to remind her of my shortcomings if she forgot, and I don’t want to suggest I have any in case it never happened.

Besides, I think there is evidence that this big wheel deficiency is real. The evidence is in the fact that I could not ride a bicycle without training wheels until I was ten years old. By that time, I was too big for training wheels. Not just in the age sense, but physically. They bent under the weight of someone who should’ve taken them off years prior. But for some reason, I couldn’t do it. Fortunately, I never fell and cracked my head open. This was before kids were forced to wear bike helmets (unless I blocked one from my memory). I did wear knee pads and elbow pads though. You’re talking about the oldest child of the most overprotective mom I know.

By the time I finally mastered the art of balance and pedaling, all the neighborhood kids were watching. Yes, I had an audience when I achieved what most six year olds know. A proud moment. Seriously, I think there was applause. “Yay! The complex idiot finally did it!” I kid (kinda).

This was an especially momentous event since I still couldn’t swim, even after takinglessons. I think I have a problem with multi-tasking of the physical kind. Kicking your legs, moving your arms, and turning your head? Yeah, can’t do it. I almost drowned trying to dive into the pool and do a scissors kick. The lifeguard or swimming teacher or whoever had to pull me out of the pool. So riding a bike without a near-death experience was a pretty big deal.

Unfortunately, once I learned to balance and pedal, we moved away from our suburban apartment complex in central Jersey, and my bicycle went the way of the garbage dumpster. I haven’t been on a bike since.

They say once you learn, you never forget. I’d like to find out someday.

Tags: bicycle, childhood, life

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