Practice what you preach, I often say to myself. As I’ve journeyed through midlife, I’ve learned many lessons, ones that I try to write about in the hope that my words help others. Lately I’ve been writing about personal growth, having moved to Sweden and learning about a different lifestyle. In a recent article, I wrote that in order to grow, you can’t be afraid to be a beginner.
Nothing demonstrates that more in my own life than getting on a bicycle again in my fifties.
As a child, I zoomed around my Long Island neighborhood, dodging the parked cars on narrow streets. Riding with confidence to the candy store, the ice cream shop, and the pool was a daily habit. Even daring to go “no hands.” They say you never forget how to ride a bike.
I’m here to tell you that’s not exactly true.
Biking in Sweden
My husband took a job in Northern Sweden . The people here incorporate exercise into their daily lives. Children bike to school and sports, the moms bike to daycare with kids in tow, and everyone bikes to and from the city, work and even the grocery store. There are bike paths everywhere. I have friends that put snow tires on their bicycles in the winter! Biking is a way of life in Sweden.
I live outside of city center so I’ve been walking everywhere. But recently I joined a gym that was a bit far, so my husband purchased a bike for me. Walking was no problem, but it took too much time. A bike would cut my commute to the gym and I could be more efficient with my days. Most importantly, I wouldn’t have to depend on my Swedish husband for a ride everywhere.
You Never Forget How to Ride a Bike
Back to never forgetting how to ride a bike. Yes. It’s true. You can hop on a bike and balance. What was more difficult was to stay on bike, steer with confidence and to safely brake when I ran into trouble.
I fell three times during my gym commute yesterday.
The first time, a section of the path was covered in gravel due to upcoming construction. I mistakenly thought I’d coast through that, simply maintain my speed while I went over the small section. But my bike had different ideas and I abruptly braked, with the wrong brake (the front one) and tipped over rather quickly into the guard rails that separated me from the road.
The second time I should have known better. I struggle with anxiety when I drive and I’ve discovered that it also exists when I am biking. A father, his dog, and two very small children, no older that five or six were taking up the bike path in front of me. I caught up to them in no time. When the two small children jumped off their bikes to pick raspberries, I thought I’d coast by on the right. But I had a panic attack, lost control of my steering wheel (in slow-motion) and tipped over, my front bike tire falling onto the child’s back tire. He didn’t even blink. Instead, he stared at me as if I had it was normal for an old lady to fall into him.
Finally, I arrived at the gym and worked out. On the way home, I took precautions. I walked my bike across the street, until I arrived at that flat path again. I did great! The last street to my home was a very steep hill, but I have learned how to use the gears. And I lost steam. Near a ditch. There were two witnesses to my demise, my gentle tipping over, and sliding down the rocky ditch on my belly. Physically, I survived, but mentally, well I was devastated. Embarrassed. Frustrated.
Practice what you preach.
Don’t be afraid to be a beginner again
It’s funny how much easier it is to write advice than to live it.
When I wrote that blog post on personal growth, I was thinking about writing, moving abroad, learning Swedish, and starting over in a new country. I wasn’t thinking about a bicycle.
Yet there I was, lying in a ditch in Northern Sweden, bleeding through my sweatpants, wondering if fifty-eight was simply too old to start over on two wheels.
But becoming a beginner isn’t graceful
You wobble. and overcorrect. You make mistakes that feel ridiculous because somewhere inside you is the memory of being competent. And You remember the person who rode no-handed down the streets of Long Island, and it’s hard to accept the person who can’t make it home from the gym without falling over.
Still, I know that I need to keep trying.
The kindness of strangers reminded me of that. Swedes from across the country shared their own crashes, offered practical advice, and reassured me that falling is simply part of learning.
One suggestion was brilliant: have the local bike shop modify the brakes. As a child, I learned to ride with two hand brake; left for the front wheel and right for the rear. My Swedish bike has a front hand brake on the left, but the rear brake is activated by pedaling backward.
While I’m concentrating on balancing, steering, and watching for pedestrians, my old muscle memory takes over. More than once, I’ve instinctively grabbed the front brake when I should have used the rear.
Maybe becoming a beginner isn’t about proving we can do master something quickly.
Maybe it’s about having enough courage to look foolish for a while.
So tomorrow, I’ll get back on the bike.
Hopefully I’ll stay upright.
And if I don’t…well, I suppose I’ll have another story to write
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