Memories

I learned to ride a bike one summer on our “wild west” family vacation.   We had friends in Wyoming and lucky for me as the only child, they had a daughter my age.  Her dad Paul was the one who eventually gave me that final push and let me go on my own.   I don’t remember falling then, but I do remember years later my mom cleaning cuts and scrapes from a neighborhood ride with my dad.  I still have the scar on my elbow.

My first bike was pink and white – it might have even had streamers.  My second bike was purple and green when my mom spent a small fortune getting me set up as a freshman living on campus.  I think I rode that bike maybe three times (sorry mom).   My new bike is a shiny new pink and purple Cannondale road bike. And as a proud new bike owner, quite pretty according to the other ladies who have seen it.

Like boats many people name their bikes too.   After much thought and different ways I could go with this, I decided to name her Judy.   Like my mom, the bike is strong and sturdy.  Like my mom, I will enjoy many adventures through this experience.  And like my mom, this bike will push me to new heights – both physically and mentally.  I hear many pro riders say they have a relationship with their bike.  I like the idea of channeling my mom through this spunky bike.  When I complete my first tri this September and next year when I do my first century bike ride, Judy will have been the momentum that kept me going.

P.S. A little hint for the poll on the right side of the page.  I had my first ride with Judy two days ago.  And guess what I DIDN'T fall off!