Learning How to Ride a Bike

It was a warm summer day, and all the kids were outside—nothing better to do—as there was only a week left until school. I rolled my training-wheeled bike out of the garage and met up with some of my friends. The air was sticky and smelled like wet grass after a summer rain. I saw all my friends riding “big-kid” bikes without the need for training wheels. I really want to learn how to do that, I thought. I decided that today was the day to learn; I didn't want to wait any longer. 

At the time, I lived on Malmstrom Air Force Base in Great Falls, Montana, with my dad (a squadron commander), my mom, and my brother. My parents were very busy with work and house chores, which made spending time together difficult. I would always wait for them to help pack my lunch or make my bed, as I relied very heavily on their help. However, today, I was determined to teach myself how to ride a bike and rid myself of those dreaded training wheels. How hard could it really be? I set my pink bike on the grass. 

“Grace,” I yelled to my friend standing across the street with her bike in hand. She pushed her long blonde hair out of her face. “Can I use your bike real quick?”

“Why?” she responded, her huge front teeth appearing through a small grin. 

“I am going to ride a bike without training wheels!” 

With her approval, I grabbed her bike and carefully adjusted the seat, as she was much taller than me. I then sat on the seat of the bike, one foot on the ground and the other on the bike pedals. I gave a brisk kick to start the motion of the wheels. Grace watched intently as I took off on her bike. Not long after I departed from the group, I lost my balance and fell into the wet grass. The soft dirt cushioned my fall. Committed to completing my goal, I stood up and tried again. I kicked the ground again to assist the motion of the wheels. I felt myself swaying to the left, so I adjusted my body to the right. While feeling the breeze run through my hair, I had a moment of Zen-like clarity and purpose as I kept my balance and moved forward stridently. The sun beamed across my face as a drop of sweat dripped down my forehead. I heard Grace cheer. I did it, I thought. My small feet tried to remain on the big black pedals as my miniature fingers gripped the handlebars. 

My body broke the wall of air like a bird’s. Thoughts raced through my mind as I flew through the street. My heart beat faster and faster. The adrenaline rushed through me. I did it, I thought, as a smile appeared on my face. Immediately after my achievement, I ran into the house and threw my pink helmet to the ground. 

“Mom! Dad!” I screamed, rushing into the family room. “Guess what?” 

“What?” my dad responded. “I just rode a bike without training wheels!” 

“That’s awesome,” my mom responded. “But why didn’t you wait for us to help teach you?” Why didn’t I wait? As I reflect on that moment today, I realize that it was the first time my personality really shined through. I didn’t realize it when I was seven years old, but this moment marked the first time I was rewarded by independence and determination. I stopped relying on those around me to take the lead and chose to lead myself. The results filled me with pride and joy, and, to this day, I grasp every opportunity to feel those emotions by taking on life’s challenges. As I prepare to embark on my college experience, I am ready to embrace riding into my future without training wheels.