It's like riding a bike

Two posts in one day. What is my brain coming to?

I often have little happy thoughts in my brain that I wish I could think of more often. More specifically, positive thoughts, no matter where they may have originated, that spur some sort of memory of positive energy in myself.

I remember I was the last child of my generation to learn how to ride a bicycle, behind my sister and two cousins. It had become a tradition in my family for my uncle to teach all of the kids how to ride a bicycle legitimately. Previously to this point, I had been struggling with balancing with the help of training wheels.

My uncle went through the usual routine of teaching the fine art of riding a bicycle to me. However, there was one catch - a grim warning. He lived in the suburbs, about a 20-25 minute car ride away from where I resided so he mentioned the streets would be light or empty of car traffic while I was learning. The grim warning wasn't to be wary of car traffic while I was learning to ride in the street. This went without saying. He went on to say, "I don't know what it is about how I teach people how to ride a bike, but everyone one of you (my sister and cousins), lost control of their bike and rode into the steel-enforced mailbox on the side of the road. I don't want to put a hex on you, but be careful!"

We started with me trying to get accustomed to my center of weight resting on the small seat of the bicycle. I was unsuccessful a handful of times managing that portion as beginner balancing involves managing your center of weight while starting to move your legs to peddle. Riding a bicycle was not just about balance, but balance in motion.

I started to show improvement, managing the initial mount and movement technique. My uncle proceeded to walk and then jog besides me as I rode the bicycle slowly along the pavement of the street. After a few more attempts, he approached me and said, "Okay, I'm not going to hold the handlebars after you start to get moving, so be ready for it." This warning wasn't very helpful, as I was already anxious to not crash and injure myself, focusing intently on my riding technique and the road ahead of me.

We got started. He ran next to me on the bike as I started to pick up speed. I then remember him saying, "Look, you got it! You got it!". I looked back for a moment to realize he wasn't holding on to the riding bar. He wasn't running along beside me any more.

I then swerved out of control and rode straight into the steel-enforced mailbox.

My uncle ran to me, asking if I was ok. After receiving the all clear, he joked with me about it. "Someone should probably move that mailbox."

I picked myself up and tried again - this time with success.