The First Ride

So today I took my first ride. I went with my girl, Llama, to the American Tobacco Trail. This trail is an old railroad bed that has been turned into a recreational trail. The best thing about it is that it is flat. I thought it would make the perfect place for a first attempt as it would be easy and that would be an encouraging and positive start for me.

The American Tobacco Trail

The old black bike is not yet road ready so I had to take BB--the Beater Bike. BB is a relatively newish but not well cared for Huffy one speed step-through. I know people wax all poetic about their thousand dollar bikes and their performance and I respect that. But let's be honest--my performance does not require a high end bike. And though I winced at getting a box-store, mass-market, el cheapo hunk of metal (even second hand and cheap), right now it's really about the ride for me. Isn't the whole point to just get out and ride? I hope that there never comes a day when I refuse to ride on a perfect spring-ish day in February due to the bike that is available. I never want to lose sight of the pure joy of hoping on a bike and wobbling my fat ass off down the trail!

BB (The Beater Bike)

That said, my ride was wonderful. My thighs were hurting within 7 minutes and I felt like I was positively crawling down the trail. And it was great! It was great to feel my muscles working, to feel the cool wind, to be breezed past by "serious bikers" in all their gear. I took it slow and steady and let myself rediscover the whole experience. I listened to BB make unpleasant noises and realized why a bike should fit properly (aka the seat kept dumping my off the front and my knees were coming nearly to my chest cuz the seat was not high enough). I remembered why I liked riding and felt a sense of joy about riding again. I pinpointed my next "essential" gear--2 damn water bottles and some breathable shirts.

There was a little unexpectedly wonderful moment during the ride. Llama, the girl, had been running while I was riding. We were both taking a break, feeling a bit worn out and walking and I offered the bike to her. She strapped the helmet on and slowly wobbled down the path. Before long, she was coming back towards me and then whizzed past. I continued walking toward the trail head thinking about how much I was enjoying the bike, the day, the company, and the sunshine. Then from behind me, I hear a shout! "Watch out! I'm a racer!!!" and Llama went flying past as fast as she could go! I broke into a huge smile just watching, vicariously feeling the joy and appreciating that I could share it. Nothing like seeing someone in their mid-twenties racing with the abandon of a child! This is what I wanted. This freedom and innocent exhilaration, the pure fun of riding a bike. I probably traveled about 3 miles give or take today. Some of it I walked, some I rode fast, most I rode slow. But I didn't really care how far I'd gone, or that the bike is as yet ill-fitted, or that I had a few too many layers on. I had a really good time.