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BICYCLE SAFETY
April 29, 2002 It's Spring time once again.
Joggers are out in droves. Walkers and inline skaters crowd the sidewalks.
And bicyclists are sharing the road with motorist (or shoving everyone off
of the sidewalks like usual). It's a common occurrence - a predecessor to
Summer. And their driving force? Sex. Well, not always, but usually. People
want to look good and feel great for their significant other or next fling -
whichever comes first.
I admit. I am gearing up to get my bike into shape, dust off the helmet, and
oil the gears. Soon I'll be out and about swerving around annoying obstacles
(like pedestrians) and taking in the cool Carolina air under the blue
Carolina sky. Ok. So I may not get the bike out of storage until August, but
it's a nice idea anyway. There is no motivation without expectation. At
least that is what I try to tell myself.
When I was young, I had a motivation to get a new bike, and expected to get
it at Christmas. I was still riding the mean streets on my red tricycle,
while my older brother ruled the neighborhood on his Huffy. Obviously I
could never keep up. My legs were too short and my bike only had one gear -
slow . It was so slow I didn't need brakes. I was envious of the freedom my
brother had on his two-wheeled dirt bike. I watched him in awe as he jumped
hills, turned corners on a dime, and braked to leave his skid marks on the
hot pavement - a testament that he was cool.
All summer I watched him and his friends roam the area on their bikes. And
all summer I sat on my red tricycle and pouted. I was a big boy and I wanted
what they had. I needed it to survive - or so I told myself. So I begged my
parents all summer and fall for a bike I could call my own. And when the
holiday season rolled around, I reminded them incessantly. I barely slept on
Christmas Eve, as I drifted in and out of sleep, dreaming of my new two
wheeled bike.
On Christmas morning, I awoke and ran to my parents room (as was tradition),
and waited for the whole family to gather before making our way to the
living room where our treasures lay exposed. Soon, my parents allowed my
sister, brother, and I to go into the living room to see what Santa brought.
There -- shining under the tree, the messiah to my slavery to a kiddy bike
-- was my new blue and yellow bike. It was complete with flashy reflectors,
safety pads, and cool decals. I was mesmerized. Never had I seen such beauty
in my life. Here was something I had wanted - and now it was in front of my
face. I was becoming a man!
This past September I was reminded of the bike I received from Santa so long
ago. That month I met Shane. He was everything I wanted in a boyfriend, and
then some. He was cute, smart, humorous, sarcastic, and a good kisser. But
that's not all, he showed me things about myself I never knew existed. He
showed me that one person can love and be loved unconditionally. I had
experienced that feeling before, but not in quite the way he presented it to
me. With him, I felt flawless, even though I knew I had many faults. He
didn't over look them, he dealt with them head-on. I rejected his feelings
initially, but soon came to realize they were genuine - straight from his
heart.
Recently, Shane and I broke up. There were no harsh feelings involved. There
wasn't any animosity towards each others for actions or inactions occurred.
It was simply the fact that I was not ready for the real thing. I was not
ready to handle in a mature manner the new freedom I had with him, and that
I couldn't have with anyone else. I have some issues in my life that must be
considered before jumping head-long into a relationship with someone I care
about. He understands that fact, and respects it. However, the departure
from each other has been difficult.
The Christmas morning I got my new bike, I learned something that I didn't
expect all summer or fall while anticipating my new mode of transportation.
It was cold outside, but still I took it out for it's maiden ride. The air
caused my nose to run and my ears to freeze, but that wasn't going to stop
me from having what I wanted. I hopped onto the bike, and took off. I didn't
make it ten feet before I crashed and fell over onto the concrete patio, and
began to cry. I cried from the pain in my legs and in my heart. It was then
I realized I wasn't ready for a two-wheeled bike.
I cried the other day. I felt a pain in my heart, as I realized I wasn't
ready for a deep and meaningful relationship, and I needed to release the
pain and get on with my life. Will I ever get back onto the bike and ride it
like no bike has ever been ridden? I am sure I will. I am just not sure when
that opportunity will come again. All I know is that I need to prepare
myself for that moment. After all, if I can ride my two-wheeled bike with
ease now, then I KNOW I can make it in other endeavors. |