White knuckled with fear and with a death grip on the handle bars my instructor coached me from the sidelines. This is long before my feet are on the pedals.
Gone are the days of running beside a bicycle holding onto whatever worked. These days it’s heel to toe push until you can balance the bike or start at the top of a small incline and let gravity help. Then the pedals come into play one at a time.
Instructor? What! Yes, well my next door neighbour is a competitive cyclist and kindly offered to help. She’s taught people of all ages to ride a bike. She walks beside her students providing encouragement and verbal support. I’ve tried before to ride a bike, the last time was a number of years ago. Maybe this time I will succeed.
Writing can be like that…
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