i am the recipient of a shiny new bike... well, actually a recently shined, old bike, rescued from an unloving home.
For the last few months I've had cycling on the brain, it's been a shift in mindset for me, as my thoughts towards cycling and cyclists have usually involved wondering how many points I'd score for running one down with my car if my life were a video game.
This may sound harsh, but my neighbourhood is one of beautiful scenery and pretty excellent bike paths - paths which the many cyclists who cohabit here refuse to acknowledge, instead choosing to ride in groups of 5 across the middle of the road, ignoring the cars trying to get past and the potentially fatal danger awaiting them if one of these drivers chose to act out one of my (and probably their) day dreams.
Anyway, ever since borrowing a crappy mountain bike to deliver some pairs of shoes to my friend Shaelah, who lives just a few suburbs over, i've had visions of me riding a beautiful step through fixed-speed bike with a basket on the front and some plastic daisies decorating the spokes. Wind blowing through my hair and all the easy style of a 60's flower child.
I figured it would be easier and more chic than walking - no sweaty fringe for me, thanks to the breeze i would create pedalling through the streets, and of course more environmentally sound than driving. Everyone knows carbon footprints aren't sexy.
So after receiving a lovely new bike - very similar looking to my earlier visions of cycling grace, sans plastic daisies, probably for the best - as an early Christmas present from my on-again-off-again lover, I decided to put my theories of stylish cycling to the test.
The proof was in the pudding, so to speak, when i took my new lady friend (I think her name will be Florence) for a spin to my local bike shop to pick up a chain so the poor love doesn't get thieved. At just under a 4km round trip, taking a fairly flat route I thought Flo's maiden voyage would be a cinch.
Unfortunately it turned out just to be embarrassing, luckily there were only a few witnesses to my crime against cool.
I think the saying "it's just like riding a bike" comes from someone who owns a bike with gears, or someone who is a lot more physically active than me.
My first struggle came at the end of my street, where there happens to be a gentle incline. My puny muscles were no match for the first of the many topographical nightmares to come. On the upside, I'm sure I brightened the days of the onlookers, surely revelling in their choice of foot power over pedal power.
Many barely-visible-to-the-naked-eye torturous hills later, I arrived at the bike shop, realising only upon removal that I had, in fact been wearing my - specially borrowed helmet to match my vintage dress - helmet backwards. And not in an ode to Marky Mark or Fresh Prince of Bel Air kind of way, but in an 'i am a dumbass and clearly a novice at cycling fashion and I have probably been flashing my knickers to every passing car without noticing too' kind of way.
The smile on the sales assistants face told me he probably thought the same thing.
So, tail between legs (and also dress wedged safely between my leg and the seat), slightly sweaty but with new bike lock in hand and also determination to give this crazy cycling craze another go (with my helmet on the right way this time - i think…) I wobbled away down the road.
I chose a more downhill route home and even did an extra two laps (also downhill) around the block, although this choice was partially made to fan said sweat away.
On arrival back to the nest, after a big sit down and thoughts of an exercised induced power spew, I have decided that maybe these cyclists deserve a little bit more credit because it's all a bit harder than it looks. I'm also looking forward to a lot more sunny days and better fashion choices - maybe even a new helmet that clearly states its front and rear ends - in the coming delicious summer months.
But I solemnly swear I will never join a bicycle posse that wears sponsored lycra onesies and rides 5 wide.
