…she ain’t what she used to be!
So…for Mother’s Day I asked for a bike. Nothing fancy. No gears to change. No brakes on the handle bars. No seat so skinny my rumpus would hang over low enough to be considered bike satchels. No. I wanted a plain, ordinary bike.
And I got one. I even got to pick it out. Looks just like the kind I had in junior high school, only shinier.
This morning, DAY 1 in getting back into bicycle shape. My husband said, “Do you want to ride it around the block only to make sure you remember how?” To which I retorted, “It’s a bike. You know the old saying, ‘Just like riding a bike?’ Well, they say that for a reason.”
So, off I went. Pedal, pedal, push, push, glide. The wind was at my face, making things a bit more difficult than I remember. And when, I began to wonder, WAS the last time I really really rode a bike. High school? Just before Daddy bought me the 65 Mustang? After that, riding a bike would not have been cool, so…okay…probably 16 years of age.
Good grief.
Pedal, pedal, push, push, breathe in, breathe out, glide.
I made it a half mile. If I turned around at that point, I would have riden a mile. Not bad, of course, but then my husband would say, “A mile? You only went a mile?” So I kept going. The breeze felt nice. The air clear. The sky blue. The sun…not too hot yet.
Pedal, pedal…okay…I’m at a full mile. I’m now under a canopy of old oaks, winding my way through a neighborhood of like-houses, condos actually, that are perfect for the starter home or the retired couple. Another woman biker, older than me, zooms past me. “Good morning,” she says with a smile.
Good morning, indeed. How dare she zoom past me like that?
I feel my face growing a bit red. That’s okay. Health has its price.
Pedal, pedal, push, push, breathe in, breathe in, breathe in….breathe out….
I hit a bump in the road. Not a big bump, but a bump. I’m not sure but I think internal damage might have occurred. Still, I’m at the two mile mark. Hey, not bad. I have internal injuries, my face is red, I’m forgetting to breathe, but I’m at two miles!
So I keep going. The jasmine hangs thick and sweet from vines wrapped tight around trees. I breathe in to catch their aroma. Yum! Okay, this is nice. Why don’t I pray? Father, thank you for this day…thank you for the ability to ride a bike…thank you that the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the jasmine is sweet…and….oh dear, is that a squirrel? Go away squirrel. Stop darting, for crying out loud. One way or the other! One way or the…
I nearly killed a squirrel.
But he…and I…survived. Okay, Where am I now? I was praying. New prayer focus: Dear God, where am I? How much further till home?
I can no longer feel my bum.
Wait. Now I can. Owe.
What was it we used to do when our bums got tired? Oh…we stood, balancing ourselves on one foot, allowing the bike to glide along. All I have to do is push UP.
My back!!! Ohmygosh! Was that a pop? Did something break? I’m not sure. I ease myself back down. Back to the bum. The aching, nearly numb bum.
I am near 3.5 miles. From my house, staying on Eagle Circle, to my house is exactly 4 miles. Yes! Only a half mile to go.
Pedal, pedal. Push, push. Breathe….IN. Breathe…OUT. Glide…glide? Is that a hill? Why have I never noticed this before? My car doesn’t exert this much energy, does it? Why have I never noticed? Push, legs. Push! Look graceful, but PUSH!!!
Is my face red or what?
But…wait…what goes up…must come down? Spinning wheels…got to go round???
I wish I had a painted pony, right now.
And so I am back to gliding. Glide, glide. No need to push. Just glide. Ah…the joys of biking…yes. And now I can see the street that cuts away from Eagle Circle and will lead me safely home. Oh home sweet home. With your laundry waiting and the floors that must be vac’d and mopped today and the groceries that need replenishing and the shower that could use an extra scrub. Not to mention the work on my desk. Oh yes. Joyous HOME!
I step off my bike and take a step. Wobbly, but a step. Okay. Step, step. Walk, walk. Don’t look stupid. There is, after all, a security camera around my house. My husband could actually want to see this. Pretend to be normal. Pretend. You can do it.
I open the garage. I slip the bike in. I pat the seat that really SHOULD be big enough and padded enough but apparently is not. “Tomorrow,” I say. “Same time. Same place. Same old woman.”
No, the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be…but she’s getting there!
16 Comments
Eva, I laughed out loud when I got to “I WISH I had a painted pony” — that was just too funny! You have hit the nail on the head with this one!
Yeah, but that painted pony probably isn’t wide enough for my hips either!
Oh, you’re such a hoot! I loved reading your post. And even though I am a few years younger, hem, hem, I can relate. The last time I road, which was several months ago, I tried to keep up with my 16 year old daughter–BIG mistake. When I got home, I collapsed on the couch and didn’t move for hours. My husband brought me pain killers and ice water. I think he was a bit concerned. And to be honest, so was I. I can walk 2 1/2 miles at a fast clip without a problem. What’s with riding a bike!?!
I laughed out loud when I read this Eva. Wasn’t it about 6 weeks ago we were power walking together and i did the slow motion step step forward with my shoulders getting closer and closer to the pavement in that same beautiful Florida sunshine and fell in the road with cars coming at us? You screemed, I screemed and it resulted in a broken arm for me and a sprained arm for you.
Praise God that you made it with no injuries. I’ll meet you half way from our homes and we can bike a trail together. Surely we are in good enough shape to tackle a bike trail with the pros. I’ll get out my ankle brace and my knee braces to keep them from popping and of course the arm brace for my broken arm maybe even a pillow for my rump? Lets see what these old grey mares can do together.
On the other hand a good brisk walk through the air conditioned mall would be a good work out as well. We could eat chocolate. Your choice.
Carolyn,
I was forced to take pain pills myself. I couldn’t walk at one point yesterday afternoon!
Eva
Kathleen,
Only if you move your house closer to mine! At least for now! (FYI, girls: Kathleen lives only a few miles from my house!) I have learned that, for now, I am good for about 2.5 miles. (Which I did this morning!). Apparently, I have to take this slowly!
LOL - this cracked me up. I hope if you guys hit the bike trails, they are paved and level - with those bare bones bikes! Eva, I bet you were pretty darn sore yesterday.
Eva
way to go! you had me laughing out loud.
You must have been going at a pretty good clip to almost nail a squirrel!!
I still have my Schwinn Varsity Ten Speed–my husband had it tuned up a couple of birthdays ago. (the guys at the bike shop were in awe of my vintage bike). I’m planning to ride with my son’s sixth grade class this friday for a bike trip–guess I better get the old Varsity down from the rafters of the garage!!
thanks for the laugh!
Keri
Dianne, Eva is pretty darned sore TODAY too!
Kerri: this bike is a ONE speed! You heard me right. a ONE speed! LOL.
That poor squirrel! I don’t know who was more afraid, him or me!
Eva Marie, you’re hilarious! Advil is a girl’s best friend, you know. And don’t EVEN start on your hips! They’re tiny! Thanks for the laugh!
Tiny hips? Me???
Apparently wearing all black DOES slenderize!
Eva,
You’re a riot today with this post.
All I can say, between laughter and tears, is YOU GO BIKER (BOOMER) BABE!
Which is precisely why I bought a MOTORCYCLE and learned to ride IT!
I just bought myself some walking poles (they are like ski poles but for walking). This old gray mare is probably younger than you and you are in a lot better shape than I am! I’d have had to walk up the hill. LOL. But wasn’t the ride down FUN? Get a motorcycle and it’ll be like that every time! LOL. Loved this post! I was with you on every push and pedal!
Hey Karla!
I had a motorcycle once! Nearly scared me to death when I got it up and going and went around the block a few times only to realize I didn’t know how to STOP the thing! LOL
Eva
My mom bought a motorcycle when she turned 50. She’s now 80 and when I told her that I’m thinking about a convertible when I turn 50, she went on and on about how dangerous they are. I smiled as she bantered on and then gently reminded her of her mid-life choice. End of conversation.
Ouch. This hurt in more ways than one. I asked for a bike a few years ago. My husband bought us matching “Schwinn Beach Cruisers. Nothing fancy, no gears, wide tires, a good “old fashioned bike.” They currently sub for shiny yard ornaments. They are also good for door stops. Last week I shook my rugs in the back yard and hung them on the handle bars to air out. Multi-purpose bikes. Alas, the purpose for which they were intended is lost on me. I’m so proud of you, dear Eva! And, I think our bikes will go in our upcoming yard sale.