Bike:  A Love Story

One of the things I missed the things I missed the most was the wind gushing past me as I’m speeding down the street.

It is the same rush as my heart beating. I am alive.

A year is a long time to wait.

I have been on the side line, patiently biding my time. I know what I had to do to get here.

Practice. Be patient with myself. Breathe.

A year ago, I had an anterior hip replacement. Complications due to a torn labrum, arthritis and hip displaysia made it impossible for me to even get out of bed. I was reduced to a pile of pain meds and angry grunts as I tried to hobble up and down steps, in and out of bed.

I gave up on all the things I loved to do. Running. Cycling. Living.

I kept this in mind. I was told that running is not recommended anymore but I could go back to cycling. Go back to the passion I remember.

First day back on my road bike. I am silently giddy. I am back to being 12 yrs. old again and riding my yellow and blue Schwinn Stingray. This was my first bike.

I remember the moment my parents gave me this bike. I took it immediately outside and taught myself to ride.

First encounter on the bike. Not so great. I didn’t know how to brake and I find myself hurling into the parking lot speed bumps right into the garbage bins.

Bloodied knees and a bruised ego. I get back on the bike and try again.

This is me now.

Get back on the bike. Breathe. Cycle. Live.

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