Dreams

Is there anything that you've always wanted to do, but never had the chance?

I suppose there are hundreds of things in most of us really. Secret things that Jim didn't fix for you many moons ago. Now time has passed and you don't know if you'll get the chance, or whether it matters anyway...

Well I've wanted to ride a bike (as in bicycle) since I was four and got bored of my fabulous but rather basic tricycle. But circumstances never lent themselves to getting that to happen. I never had the thrill of a pink bike with stabilisers and ribbons. And as if that wasn't bad enough, I missed out on the Raleigh Chopper, the Grifter and - the BMX. As a kid I envied my friends who rode past me with a freedom and finesse that I could only dream about as I plodded behind on my boring two feet. An Uncle once promised to buy me this amazing Grifter (my personal fave) from my mum's catalogue. Not long afterwards he went on a trip to Nigeria and didn't come back for about 10 years. He'd long forgotten his promise by then, but I hadn't. He had suffered the ultimate fall from grace in my mind. You promised me a Grifter, the one thing that I wanted more than anything else, and it never came.

Well almost anything else. Even if I had got my dream bike, there was still the small problem that I didn't know how to ride the darn thing. I hid the shameful truth from everyone, even myself when I could. I think I just hoped somehow that I'd get it.

Time passed. I moved on. I got into Wham, Shalamar, Musical Youth and The Kids from Fame. Then I got into puberty and hip hop - neither of which was going to let me do anything so foolish as trying to learn how to ride a bike. The closest I got to a bike was this rather random crush on a guy in the local bike shop. I don't remember much about him other than his black curly hair, but the bikes, the bikes were gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.

The eighties left and the nineties began. I got more alternative, listened to indie (which might be normal for you, but I'm telling you where I come from, believe me, its alternative!) and settled on rare groove and anything on Acid Jazz.
Now it was cool, enlightened even to try something new. But I still didn't have a bike, did I?
When a cyclist passed me by - I envied them.
I went out with a cyclist for awhile. But I couldn't share my secret. Besides he was good, like national standard good, like shave his legs for competitions, good. He was into indie, which frankly I was utterly over by then and was trying to re embrace my inner hip hop child. We split up cos we had nothing in common.

The barren years continued. I sat on a bike a couple of times in my 20's but had no idea what I was doing. One thing I did know. When you are 5 ft 9 and you fall off a bike its a long way down, and no one picks you up and gives you a hug and your favourite sweets. They laugh or (worse) pity you.

Then I got married to a man who did mountain biking with an Orange bike. An Orange I tell you. Its not a Grifter, but who is complaining? He convinced me that he could teach me and that I could learn and that I would be great at it. I tried his bike once on the one flat part of Sheffield we knew (a hidden basketball court in Upperthorpe) and the seat is one of those that threatens your fertility. Seriously. I did a big circle, but I wasn't going to make a habit of that kind of pain.

Still the dream lived on. We moved to Phoenix (a flat city) in America. I prayed for a bike on a whim and got given a GT. It began with G, just like my Grifter. That was close enough. Then I had a child and tried the Orange again. Ouch.

So last Christmas I decided to ask my husband for a seat for my bike and a helmet. Which I felt was a big step considering he could have got me something really nice like a watch or jewellery or MAC make up or Floetry CDs. It committed me to my goal - to learn how to ride a bike before Tia would have to teach me.

Last Sunday we took to the road. I felt totally embarassed when a kid rode passed me, so I begged Chris to take me somewhere where no one would see. So we took to a school car park (US - parking lot). And I got on the bike and rode. I stayed upright, I went in circles and then straight lines. I turned corners. Tia giggled, probably relieved that there is one less thing she'll have to teach her mother about life. Chris applauded.

A 27 year dream was now complete. When I got home, I sat down and cried.