Back to Biking

I don't remember ever not having a bike.  Growing up in Chicago, we lived across from Lincoln Park and would ride everywhere- to the park, the zoo, the beach.  My school had yearly Trike-A-Thons, and we would decorate our rides with streamers and balloons and parade them around the park with pride.  We moved to Evanston when I was six, and I was finally old enough to ride a Big Girl bike- a beautiful red Schwinn with a glorious sparkled banana seat.  I remember my father holding me up while I practiced balancing, but it was pretty natural for me and in no time I was riding solo.  

Riding away, circa 1983

For a few years we lived in Barrington Hills, which lived up to it's name and since Evanston is completely flat I loved the change of elevation.  I would go out every morning, climbing up the hills and gliding down.  It was a difficult period in my life, and biking was a source of joy and escape and a way to feel grounded. 

In college I was casually enjoying biking, swimming and running, so when a friend asked me to do the Chicago Triathlon with him I thought, why not?  Without a doubt, the bike ride was the easiest and most fun part for me and I'm glad it was sandwiched between the grueling swim and exhausting run.  Until a few years ago my participant number was still stuck to my helmet, and seeing it was always a source of pride.  I later studied in England for half a year, and I was able to find a shop that let me rent a bike for $70 for the whole time.  It allowed me to get to a job and take classes at a branch of the campus that otherwise wouldn't have been accessible.  At the end of the six months it was hard to give that bike up. 

I've had my share of accidents.  My chin has been stitched up twice and I got doored on my birthday one year. I crashed in the woods while trail riding and have stitches in the pattern of the gear that cut through my calf.  My friend made a tourniquet out of his shirt and took off to go for help but it was a good 45 minutes before the EMTs made it back with a gurney.  Finally, five years ago, thanks to a hit-and-run driver I face-planted into a lamp post and bit through my lip.  My top four teeth were all replaced, I had 9 root canals on my bottom teeth, I have 13 stitches on my lip and I can't bite down all the way on the left side of my mouth, even though I had 6 months of physical therapy after the accident.  I get really bad jaw and headaches, have to sleep with a retainer, and now have a goofy half smile that I default to- I'm pretty sure there was some nerve damage to the right side of my face.  Alas, I was up and riding again after as soon as the doctor ok'd it. 
I inherited a car a few years ago when I took Dad's keys away, and I know it's made me lazy.  If the weather is iffy or I'm tired, it just seems so easy to take the car instead of hopping on my bike.  Still, until this past winter I was still using my bike almost daily.  Then Chicago had Snowmageddon and the bike I've been riding regularly for 10 years got abandoned.  It wasn't in great shape to begin with, and six months of non-use took a real toll.  When I guiltily brought it in to the shop for a tune-up a few weeks ago, they said the cost of fixing it almost didn't make it worth it.  Instead, they sold me a completely refurbished Trek that had new brakes, chains, a new tire, the works for just over $200,  and I love it. 

In the past week I've reconnected with the joy I've always gotten from riding- the wind in my face, being self-propelled, moving past cars stuck in traffic.  I've already saved almost $10 on meters I would normally have to had paid by driving, and saved on gas.  It's better for the environment, and great exercise, but most importantly it's just fun, and I'm looking forward to a great summer on two wheels.