So, like any kid, I learned to ride a bike at a young age. I'd have to check in with my parents to know how old I was, but I remember my pink and purple bike and learning to ride on our street and down in the cul-de-sac. I also remember heading down the driveway one day and veering into our ivy bank to avoid running into the street as a car came down the hill. I'm sure that wasn't the first time I had a "bike accident," but it certainly wasn't the last.
Over the years I've had phases with bikes. In college, during my sophomore year, I got a bike because I lived on the edge of campus in the only campus apartments at the time, and needed a bike to get to class on time. My dad and I went shopping and I bought a bike at Dicks. Nothing super fancy or expensive, but it did the job. It also came with me to Tech, but spent most of the time in the closet, since I was afraid to ride on Howell Mill to campus. During my internship in seminary, I lucked out and got a sweet bike rack for my car in our white elephant gift exchange. It made it easier to take my bike places, but still for the most part it hung out in closets or the garage. My dad and brother (along with other extended family members) rode the Great Ohio Bicycle Adventure a couple times, but I never got a chance to join them. However, the three of us would occasionally go for long bike rides - around 15-20 miles - and I was always able to keep up.
Two weeks ago, I left the office around 5 on a Friday afternoon and decided I needed to get in a ride. Richmond is not the safest place to ride, and while they are working on constructing a 55-mile "Capital to Capital" trail from Richmond to Williamsburg, none of it is complete on the Richmond side. However, there are long stretches closer to Williamsburg that are off the road but paved, and a good place to log some miles - on the bike or running. So I put my bike on my bike rack and headed out. I found a spot to park as it started sprinkling, and geared up. I headed out to the trail, but quickly realized I had forgotten to turn on my lights. Even though I'd be on the trail, it was nearing dusk and I knew the safe option was to turn on my lights. But instead of stopping, I tried to turn them on while on the bike. And down I fell. Ended up with a scraped up knee, a-la a 5 year old, but got right back up and headed out for my 8.7 mile ride. This past weekend, I headed up to NOVA to go for a long ride with my friend Meredith. We had done the south leg from Alexandria to Mt. Vernon about a month ago, so this time we decided to head north. Neither of us were as familiar with this segment, so there were a couple times we had to figure out our plans - one being about 7 miles in, in the middle of Roslyn, right by the Key Bridge. Well, Meredith just stopped (she doesn't use clips), and I unclipped on the left, and then fell to the right. Had some road rash, and a slight bruise, (more of a bruised ego falling around all those people), but was still able to hop back on the bike and ride away.
I'm on my way to managing 300 miles over 5 days. Even with these falls, I'm excited about this journey, and expanding my fitness horizons. Who knows, maybe one day I'll think about more than just a sprint triathlon! In the meantime, I'll keep logging miles - and asking gently that you support my ride ;)
Here's what I've learned: Life is like riding a bike - sometimes we fall. But we have to get back up and keep going. Sometimes it's easy to get back up, sometimes it's hard. But we keep going.
