I biked two miles to my son’s school all by my lonesome for the monthly PTO meeting. I know what you’re thinking: “So what? You don’t understand. That to me is an incredible feat! Guys, I’m just now getting comfortable with riding a bike. Yes, at my age, which I won’t tell you what it is, but you know it’s not five. My mom, who graduated from Doormatting U (yep, she got her PHD), never learned to ride one. My father knew, but didn’t teach her and he sure as heck didn’t want her to teach me, either. How can you teach something you don’t know? Good point. She always blamed him. I blamed them both. Why couldn’t HE had taught me? I mean, can you imagine the self-image of a child who doesn’t know how to ride a bike? It’s pretty darn melted cheese on the pavement kinda thing.
However, let’s not dwell on how I was cheated out of a “normal” childhood. What the hell? I lived by the beach. How can I complain?
What’s important here is that I CONQUERED MY FEARS. You have any idea how scary it is to learn to ride a bike once you’re aware how fragile your bones are? Well, I did it. I learned at seventeen; took a refresher course at thirty-five when my son was born; and am now the proud biker to supermarkets, PTO meetings and everywhere else in the surrounding area. It might have taken me half a lifetime, but I did it! And that’s what’s key. We all have fears we need to conquer in order to become a better whoever-we-want-to-be. Ironically, our proudest achievements usually flow from our most gripping fears. So just you wait! You haven’t seen the last of me yet. You’ll catch my curly tops on TV as the fearless senior with her arms up in the air as she nears the finish line at the 2015 Giro d’Italia.