Internal Monologue of a Potential New Cyclist
Chapter 4: Clipped In & Clumsy
The parking lot of the community center buzzed with activity. Bikes of all shapes and sizes leaned against cars, and a small group of people milled around, looking equally nervous and excited. Eleanor parked her car and took a deep breath, trying to quell the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. This was it. Her first cycling class.
She spotted a woman wearing a bright orange vest and a friendly smile. A sign next to her read “Two Wheel Adventures – Confident Cyclist.”
“You must be Eleanor!” the woman said, extending her hand. “I’m Lisa, your instructor. Welcome!”
Lisa was exactly what Eleanor needed – warm, encouraging, and radiating competence. She quickly introduced Eleanor to the other participants – a mix of ages and abilities, all united by a common goal: to learn to ride with confidence.
The class started with a safety briefing. Lisa emphasized the importance of helmets, hand signals, and being aware of your surroundings. She then explained the basics of bike mechanics – checking tire pressure, adjusting brakes, and shifting gears. Eleanor felt a little overwhelmed. There was so much to learn!
Next came the practical part. Lisa led the group onto a flat, paved path, and they started with a series of drills designed to build balance and coordination. They practiced gliding without pedaling, steering around cones, and using the brakes effectively.
Eleanor quickly discovered that she was, unsurprisingly, the most wobbly participant. She struggled to maintain a straight line, frequently veering into the cones or nearly colliding with her classmates. She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Remember to look where you want to go, Eleanor,” Lisa called out, patiently. “Your bike will follow your gaze.”
Eleanor tried to focus, but her coordination seemed to abandon her completely. She was so focused on not falling that she ended up overcorrecting, swerving wildly, and nearly losing control.
“Okay, deep breaths,” she muttered to herself. “You can do this.”
During a break, another participant, a woman named Maria, approached Eleanor.
“Don’t worry, it’s tough at first,” Maria said with a reassuring smile. “I haven’t ridden a bike since I was a kid. I was terrified I’d fall, but Lisa is a great teacher. Just keep practicing.”
Maria’s words were a welcome boost of encouragement. Eleanor realized she wasn’t alone in her struggles.
The class continued with more challenging drills – practicing turning, navigating obstacles, and riding in a straight line. Eleanor gradually started to improve, though she still lagged behind the other participants. She managed to complete a full circuit of the path without falling, which felt like a major accomplishment.
Towards the end of the class, Lisa introduced them to shifting gears. This proved to be the most challenging part. Eleanor couldn’t seem to get the hang of it, constantly shifting to the wrong gear or getting stuck in between.
“It takes practice,” Lisa said patiently. “Think of it like finding the right speed for your legs. Easy gears for uphill, harder gears for downhill.”
As the class came to an end, Eleanor felt exhausted but exhilarated. She hadn’t mastered the art of cycling, but she’d made progress. She’d learned new skills, overcome some of her fears, and met some friendly people.
As she wheeled her bike towards her car, Lisa approached her.
“You did great, Eleanor,” she said with a smile. “You’re a quick learner, and you have a great attitude. Just keep practicing, and you’ll be riding with confidence in no time.”
Eleanor smiled back, feeling a surge of optimism. She still had a long way to go, but she was determined to keep pedaling. She was, after all, a beginner cyclist. And that was okay.
