Training

Being a Kid Again


Learning to ride a bike of one of those things that defines your childhood. I was very proud of the fact that I taught myself to ride, and I did it without stabilisers – a bold move at the age of 7 I thought. By freewheeling my Raleigh Tomahawk down the garden path, I measured my progress in slabs. When I’d run out of slabs (which incidentally ended at the top of a short flight of steps), I ventured out onto the road in the front of the house. As I wobbled off down the road I realised that I’d done it – I’d learnt to ride a bike.

You’d think that a set of training rollers would be straight forward enough to ride wouldn’t you?

With one hand on the bench and the other trying to control the handlebars as the bike swerved around uncontrollably beneath me, I quickly discovered there was more to it than meets the eye. After a couple of false starts, and with a little assistance from Beth I gradually got myself upright, but still with one hand firmly on the bench. Gradually as I increased my cadence I steadied myself with just my fingers until, finally, and with concentration strong enough to bend spoons, I let go of the bench, wobbled a bit and I was away. I felt 7 again – I’d learnt to ride rollers πŸ™‚

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