It's not just in the home with my sourdough that I have had the urge to do something different. As my health started to improve in 2011, I expressed a wish to learn to ride a bike, something I had never done as a child (I am now in my 50's). My husband, who used to cycle to work everyday, encouraged me to purchase a bike so that I could learn. So a bought a cheap, but new mountain bike. I don't think he anticipated that it would not be that easy - traumatic not just for me, but for him also.
At first, every time I went to push the pedal with my left foot, my right foot would decide, as if by magic, to plant itself on the ground and stay there. Nothing would move it. It was glued in position! I then found out, after numerous tries that, in order to move at all, you quite literally have to take a step of faith, push your feet down on their respective pedals, look straight ahead, believing that I would stay upright and move forward.
This worked for about 5 seconds to start off with. Then I would realise that I was actually moving and panic, swerving and going off balance. Then we would go back to the beginning.
All this was taking place in our patio area in the back garden - not a large area, about 20 foot wide. At one point, because I was making such a mess of things, I began to laugh. Mistake - I completely lost any concentration I had had and fell, grazing my knee and annoying my husband, who felt I wasn't taking it at all seriously.
As I slowly improved, it was decided that I ride up the road, to the interest and amusement of my neighbours. A white knuckle ride indeed. But the icing on the cake was when Alan (my husband) tried to teach me how to go round in circles on an area of grass just up the road from where we live.
Grass does have a different feel than tarmac. There I was trying to concentrate on that, as well as trying to turn as well as keeping my momentum up, then disaster struck! I lost balance and completed a commendable belly flop, landing on my face in the grass. Our post lady, who was cycling past at the time, came rushing over to see if I was alright, but I was fine, just a sad case of bruised pride.
Slowly, and surely I began to get the 'feel' of the bike. Apart from a wiggle as I started to move off, I was steady. Braking wasn't a problem. It seemed to me I was braking more than pedalling. And when I said to Alan that there was such a lot to think about, he would look at me in bewilderment. 'After all,' he said, 'there is nothing to riding a bike.'
I do think that learning to ride when you reach a certain age is a little different to when you are a child. As an adult, you know what can go wrong. Broken bones do matter and pride can be such an issue. And all this is going through my mind as I am learning to ride.
So, 18 months ago, I actually learnt how to ride a bike. It didn't go any further. I didn't have the confidence to go out on the roads where we lived because a) we live on a slope; b) it is on a bus route and c) there are a lot of cars parked on the road. But I knew, that having got this far, I was going to have to take it further and get more experienced. More on my next posting.
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