Just Like Riding a Bike
Over 4 years ago I used to bike to work. My old place of employment was a 15 minute bike ride away and the route involved absolutely no road traffic. The best part en route to work was the last part which took me through Schweizer Garten - a lovely little park during the day. I would zoom through under chestnut trees feeling exhilarated and alive while the wind whipped my hair across my face. It was the perfect start to the day. Then I lost my job and did the responsible thing and got knocked up. My bike stayed in the basement for years and when I started working again, the thought of biking there was a pipe dream. Enter a co-worker who convinced to give it the old college try again and, voila, I am back on the bike.
But of course I had to get prepared to take the plunge again. I bought a helmet over the weekend and with the Husband's help (there was nagging), a new seat was placed on my bike. I bought a gel-cushion like-one and the Husband couldn't understand my need for a new seat. I explained to him that I have tampons bigger than the original seat and if I hit a bump, there might be need for surgery. So Monday morning, with my helmet firmly over my "do", I headed out. Yes, a helmet, because once you spawn, you become immediately aware of your own mortality. Try it, it's awesome.
I started out slow and since there are no immediate bike paths when you leave our new place, I kept jumping up onto the sidewalk when a car dared to drive down the street. After 5 minutes of white-knuckling, I made it to a bike path. I rolled slowly down the hill, pumping the brakes. I made it to the Ring which is pretty much my most favourite of bike paths. Suddenly that joie de vivre hit me and I pumped the pedals and made my way around the Ring. I hit Urania and crossed over the Danube and biked down Praterstrasse, spying the famous Riesenrad in front of me. I felt good, I felt competent. I looped past the Prater and hit Lasallestrasse and thought to myself "Hey! I should test out my gears".
Oh motherlover. I am an idiot. My bike got stuck on the highest gear as I neared the bridge. I GOT STUCK ON THE HIGHEST GEAR just before a bridge. A bridge with a hill. We've all felt pain but this was spectacular. I huffed and puffed up the hill and wanted to scream to the cyclists behind me "GO AROUND ME! YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE THIS! GO AROUND!!!" I made it to the highest point and saw spots and desperately tried to change the gears but no. Bike says no.
Thank God the rest was somewhat flat and 45 minutes after leaving home I made it to the Gate. I searched for my security pass and tried not to go into cardiac arrest. I found it and hobbled up to the guard. He boomed "I wasn't sure if you were coming in or not!" to which I replied "I didn't know either. My gear got stuck" and my bottom lip quivered. He let me in and I minced up the ramp, happy to be alive. Despite the exhaustion, I felt awesome. I did not bike home that day.
Realizing that my bike has never been serviced, I stopped by a bike shop near our new place Monday afternoon and told them "My bike needs love". What I wanted to say was "My bike needs to be serviced" and did you know that "service" in English is "service" in German? I didn't. Yesterday I wanted to bike to the shop but a monsoon hit and I decided to take public. But today I knew I had to bike back... on the highest gear.
So I did. A piece fell off my bike on the way back and octogenarians flew past me but I made it to the shop. My bike is currently getting the full treatment and on Saturday I get to pick it up. Gears better be back in working order because pit stains don't wash out of polyester, y'all. If I have learned anything from this adventure it is that you are never too busy or bogged down with responsibility to become a kid again. I kind of feel like I got a tiny bit of freedom back and it feels good, damn good. My ass? Not so good.
But of course I had to get prepared to take the plunge again. I bought a helmet over the weekend and with the Husband's help (there was nagging), a new seat was placed on my bike. I bought a gel-cushion like-one and the Husband couldn't understand my need for a new seat. I explained to him that I have tampons bigger than the original seat and if I hit a bump, there might be need for surgery. So Monday morning, with my helmet firmly over my "do", I headed out. Yes, a helmet, because once you spawn, you become immediately aware of your own mortality. Try it, it's awesome.
I started out slow and since there are no immediate bike paths when you leave our new place, I kept jumping up onto the sidewalk when a car dared to drive down the street. After 5 minutes of white-knuckling, I made it to a bike path. I rolled slowly down the hill, pumping the brakes. I made it to the Ring which is pretty much my most favourite of bike paths. Suddenly that joie de vivre hit me and I pumped the pedals and made my way around the Ring. I hit Urania and crossed over the Danube and biked down Praterstrasse, spying the famous Riesenrad in front of me. I felt good, I felt competent. I looped past the Prater and hit Lasallestrasse and thought to myself "Hey! I should test out my gears".
Oh motherlover. I am an idiot. My bike got stuck on the highest gear as I neared the bridge. I GOT STUCK ON THE HIGHEST GEAR just before a bridge. A bridge with a hill. We've all felt pain but this was spectacular. I huffed and puffed up the hill and wanted to scream to the cyclists behind me "GO AROUND ME! YOU DON'T WANT TO SEE THIS! GO AROUND!!!" I made it to the highest point and saw spots and desperately tried to change the gears but no. Bike says no.
Thank God the rest was somewhat flat and 45 minutes after leaving home I made it to the Gate. I searched for my security pass and tried not to go into cardiac arrest. I found it and hobbled up to the guard. He boomed "I wasn't sure if you were coming in or not!" to which I replied "I didn't know either. My gear got stuck" and my bottom lip quivered. He let me in and I minced up the ramp, happy to be alive. Despite the exhaustion, I felt awesome. I did not bike home that day.
Realizing that my bike has never been serviced, I stopped by a bike shop near our new place Monday afternoon and told them "My bike needs love". What I wanted to say was "My bike needs to be serviced" and did you know that "service" in English is "service" in German? I didn't. Yesterday I wanted to bike to the shop but a monsoon hit and I decided to take public. But today I knew I had to bike back... on the highest gear.
So I did. A piece fell off my bike on the way back and octogenarians flew past me but I made it to the shop. My bike is currently getting the full treatment and on Saturday I get to pick it up. Gears better be back in working order because pit stains don't wash out of polyester, y'all. If I have learned anything from this adventure it is that you are never too busy or bogged down with responsibility to become a kid again. I kind of feel like I got a tiny bit of freedom back and it feels good, damn good. My ass? Not so good.
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