Biking

I was never good on two wheeled objects. Really. I sucked at riding a bike. I couldn’t really roller blade well. I thought if I was bad at these, then I should take it as a sign I shouldn’t really go near motorbikes.

I often listen to my fears and laden my life full of excuses fueled by these fears.
“Don’t go for a new job…you’ll only end up unemployed, on benefits or homeless”
“Don’t try that dress on…you’ll only look fat and stupid. Everyone will laugh at you… if you wore it in public someone would snapchat it and you’d be a viral joke”

Most relevant to now though… “Don’t ride motorbikes.. you will fall off and die”

I mean… it isn’t wholely without logic. They are dangerous, there are a lot of fatalities. Even a small crash is worse because you have no protection…. people don’t see you.. all sorts of things.
For me…part of it is I built up a fear of falling off… of looking like a tool. Of the fact I havnt riden a bicyle in over 12 years. I have a car smothered in dents and scratches from my poor judgement (mainly of posts or gaps… I do have NO 3D vision and depth perception is rather limited ). So it made sense to stear clear.

That is till my bf walked into my life. He rides and looks soo sexy. I mean I know that shouldn’t be a justification for wanting to learn. Especially as I am not 6″1, broad shouldered, dark haired handsome and good at these things. But his passion for riding is evident. He talks about how you can just go, and while riding, the roads are fun, you weave and bend, explore small paths that would be scary in a car, but a open for a bike. You can focus on the road, on the trees and lanes. The smell of grass and the countryside. You’re having to focus on that, so you’re mind can’t focus on what is upsetting you.
So I agreed to be pillion and ride on the back.
Safety is super important to him, having had a rather high speed crash and surviving with only minor injuries, he’d never risk me. So I bought a helmet and jacket. He loaned me his biker jeans and gloves. Off we went.

It was amazing. I love it. The freedom, the zooming around, The fact I am holding on to him, and we are just being together. Exploring.

The twists and bends are thrilling and ok…when he opens the engine up… the feeling of speed is like nothing else.

I hate my fears for thinking I should never have done it, and that I couldn’t. Because now, I’m nearly 30, wanting to learn to ride. Everyone will think it’s a midlife crisis. It’ll cost sooo much money and it’s not like I can travel with much. But I think I will add it to the goals list.

I want to feel it for myself. Not just straddled behind over someones shoulder. I want to ride. I want to be a biker.