The Scurriers

Lance says It's Not About the Bike

But, it's so about the bike.  Completely about the bike.

 

Because of several surgeries, even more of rads of radiation, and an IM rod in my right femur, my right leg is less than stellar, shall we say?  Depending on the weather, the shoes I'm wearing, the ground under my feet, whatever I've just done, the day of the week, or just about anything else, movement has been difficult for me, for about 30 years.  Especially FAST movement.  The doctor just replaced the IM rod with a new, spiffier model and it has taken me 10 weeks to be able to walk around the block, even  at a snail's pace.

My sweet friend, Rose Jayne, suggested that I get a bike.  A bike will help you heal.

  

With tremendous apprehension, I entered the bike shop.  So not sure of anything.......  when a cool-really-into-bikes young guy waited on me.  He spoke a completely foreign language to me. Gears, tire thickness, street riding, seats, and all kinds of other things I don't even remember because I was just wanting to get  a simple bike with regular brakes, kind of like my old Schwinn.  I was just praying I could get on and stay on the thing!  He was a good salesman and I wanted to heal, so I bought the bike.

I wobbled down the street and finally onto the trail at the Rose Rudman with Rose Jayne, who looked like Speed Racer to me. I was scared to death of every jogger, walker, dog, tree, rock or stick in my path.  Every one of them was a potential accident waiting to happen.  But, I did it.  I rode for 15 whole minutes.  I felt better than fabulous.  Until the next day, when Rose Jayne called and wanted to ride again.  Scurry on over, she said.  I was scared to death all over again. I knew it was so hard for me.  Scurry?  I could barely stay upright...and who says that anyway??

The rides have gotten so much better, and I'm now scurrying all over the place, both on and off the trail.  I like that whirrrrrrr sound the bike makes and all of that self-created wind  I make because I'm riding soooo fast.  Really fast.  We ride and talk, talk and ride.  We solve the problems of the world and catch up on everyone else's lives.  It is very healing.  The other day, I rode in my mom's retirement neighborhood.  Trying to look unconcerned, she stood in her yard, in the hot sun, and waited for me until I cruised back into her drive way.  Did she really think someone was going to snatch her fifty-four year old daughter? Probably not, but it was the sweetest.  I sort of felt like a kid again.

I've finally figured out  that moving moves me.  All of me.   It moves all of that stuff inside of me that makes me feel so stuck.  The bike is healing me.  It's moving me forward in my life without pain.  I have a renewed sense of self.  It's giving me confidence in ways I could have never imagined and it's allowing my body to feel the thrill of moving FAST.

It's very much  ALL ABOUT THE BIKE.