Diary of a Whining Forty-Something Learning to Cycle. Vol. 4

I will be writing this diary forever. Seriously. I will never learn to ride a bike!

Although I swam through my first biking lesson with flying colours, it did seem a bit too good to be true. So it turned out. I must have had a stroke of what is known as beginner’s luck.

A few days after my first attempt, I optimistically decided to give it another go. All those purple-black bruises had just about got less sensitive to the touch, so – time to do it again. So I thought.

Little did I know that unhealed bruises hurt like hell if bashed again, so minutes into my lesson I was nearly in tears. As most women, I can be a drama queen, big time. And I was. Would be difficult not to be, though, when the damn pedal breaks your vein. Or so it felt, as the pain was so sharp and constant that it got my attention for the rest of the day. Fuck. I do have some medicines to hand, but it did scare the shit out of me. Would be a bit silly to end up in hospital for such a thing, and yet that would be very a realistic scenario for someone with a track record like mine.

You can’t avoid drama when your private parts are on fire, either. So no sex for a while, then. A definite no no.

My newly learned skills had all mysteriously disappeared – apart from the one I mastered to perfection. Hitting obstacles, remember how good I was at that? I still am. Oh yes.

Feeling like a complete idiot, this time I didn’t actually manage to do more than a couple of metres. Pedals were so bloody hard to push for some reason… Most likely because of all that rain. My tyres were digging into the grass – to make my life even more miserable.

All in all – total failure. Only positive thing was being able to take off on my own (most times). But I don’t think this is enough to make me want to try again. I totally suck.

This is why I decided to start this diary. Hoping that by writing about it I will face my fears more easily and somehow make myself do it. Maybe the support I receive from my readers will encourage me. Or maybe it will frighten me even more…

Anyway, right now I don’t feel like trying again. Lesson number one learned: wait until your bruises heal. Completely, that is. And it would probably help to restore your hurt pride – somehow. It’s all about attitude, isn’t it. A ‘can do’ approach is more likely to get you there, rather than feeling sorry for yourself.

Which I am very good at. I am. No point denying.

I did ask my tutor, what the hell is my problem today??

‘You know what your problem is?’, he said. ‘Worrying too much about your shit.’ Getting hurt, he meant.

Spot on. Not that I don’t have some valid reasons for that. With knee surgery coming up soon, as well as veins surgery (I know, pretty intense, isn’t it), it would help not breaking my veins and bruising myself. Vein surgery will bruise me enough as it is.

Yup, I do worry too much. Shall I call it a day, then??

Or maybe it’s a bit simpler. Riding a bike could wait until I get my shit sorted, before I wreck my legs again. After all, I want my health back, and hurting myself won’t help me too much with that.

And… I want my sex life back.

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