Letting Go
I have this memory from when I was about 5. We lived in Bloomington, MN an original suburb. It is a memory where I leaped through a second into a whole new world of independence. It was one of those moments when I had to let go of my fear and try something all on my own. On the other side was the sweet reward of self confidence. It happened when my dad let go - he asked me if I was ready, and ran a little further beside me and then he let go, he let go of the back of my bicycle seat and I was pedaling on my own, no training wheels - all by myself. I must have smiled a smile bigger than my entire face. I remember having a little kid feeling of "I can do it, I can do it, I am doing it. Look at me." How do parents do it? They know things, they love their kids and they have to love them enough to let go, over and over again. And they help you build the confidence and encourage you to keep stepping out. Letting go of my seat on my bike, I imagine was probably as fun for my Dad as it was for me. It was the beginning of a life long love of biking.
2 years later, we lived in Davenport, IA. It was a new little development called Kimberly Village. We lived about a block away from the village pool and across the street from a creek. For my birthday I got a bike with three speeds. It was purple and had a sparkly purple banana seat. The shift for the speeds was on the handle bars. The pedals were white and plastic. It was the best bike in the neighborhood. I would spend hours on my bike. I would ride it up the hill to the pool and race down the hill to the park on the creek. I took clothes pins and attached playing cards to the spokes so that it clicked when I pedaled. I went on adventures all by myself, riding around the neighborhood with no one but me. I loved it.
When I was 14 or so and we had moved to Minnesota and back to Iowa again, I was given a 10 speed bike. It was gold with a small black seat and drop bars. This was a whole new biking experience. I loved this bike. I rode it everywhere. My friend Jana and I would take long bike rides with her family or with the church group. One day she call me and asked if I wanted to bike across the river to her the shop that her dad owned. She said it would be fun, we could see how many horns we could get to honk at us. So away we went halter tops and Nair short shorts shorts - oh, those were different days -
Then I went to college and moved to Minneapolis. I bought a red Raleigh 14 speed bike for city biking. I would leave for hours riding the lakes and parkways. Sometimes I would meet someone out in the farm roads and bike the rolling hills in Wisconsin. I went without a car for a summer and biked everywhere working two jobs at a time. My red Raleigh was stolen and I was heart broken. So I bought a cross over road/racing bike - a blue Raleigh Perigee. It lived through several triathlons with me. I put a computer on it and became obsessed with cadence and strength. I lifted weights and worked my cadence and biked on the weekends. I biked places and locked up my bike and went for a swim in a lake or a run around a lake. I sought out hills in the city that I could bike up for a workout. I watched my cadence and shifting....never go below 60-70 rotations per minute....I found the Luce Line and the Stillwater trails. On the weekends I would throw my bike out the back door, grab a Power Bar, water down some Gatorade and take a couple of bucks and leave. I plugged in my headphones and biked as fast as I could. I biked often enough and in enough places to eventually get accosted by enough men that I was no longer afraid. I wasn't stupid but I wasn't afraid.
I put a rack on it and went on bike trips with my friend Molly. We packed our tent, camping gear and food on the bikes, left our cars and biked the north shore and the south shore of Lake Superior. We biked through central Minnesota. We camped and hiked. I became proficient at changing bike tires. I became more independent and sure. I have memories of hiking state parks in full moons without a flashlight. Sweet memories of hiking over a hill in Canada through unbelievably thick swarms of mosquito's to an overlook while a hawk whistled above us circling and hunting over the view. I have memories of stopping to by an ear of corn at lunch and sitting on a high piece of rock along Lake Superior and eating raw corn watching rock climbers go up and belay down the sheer face of the rock. I remember being blown around by log trucks and desperately trying to keep up with my friend Molly. I remember how incredible rice cakes, tahini and peanut butter tasted during a break. I figured out how to use little stoves and survived.
It was my friend Molly that introduced me to Off Road Biking. I loved it - to ride quietly through the woods. The first time we went to a place in Wisconsin to a forest where there were miles and miles of trails for all different skill levels. We accidentally rode onto a difficult trail - steep hills and single track, rocks - we screamed and laughed and were exhausted at the end of the day. Kristin took me back to this forest for a birthday a few years later and we started biking together. I like my mountain bike. I like biking and I like biking with Kristin and my friends.
My dad had to let go of the back of my seat - he had to let me go and trust that I would be okay - that he had given me enough confidence to keep on going. I might fall, I probably would fall, in fact I did fall. I was okay. He had to know that I could keep moving forward and making mistakes and hope that I would learn from making mistakes. When I fell I would be able to get up. At some point he must realize that I would never be done. That he couldn't be invested what I would be only what I was in the moment what we had right then when he let go of the seat. How much he gave me when he let go of the bike.
Every time I go to agility class I have to let Gromit take a chance and try - and sometimes I let go and he misses. Sometimes I am so focused and think he has to do it my way or no way. Sometimes I forget that what I really want is for him to have amoment of fun, every moment to be fun. We will never be done - with agility or being together and dancing around the world. It is safe in our house and our fenced yard. It is relaxing for us all. Gromit is not satisfied with a fenced yard and picture window. He likes new things and old dog friends. He likes great smells. He likes a walk in the woods in the moonlight and a walk in the woods in the rain. He likes to run through the snow and the water. He likes to run as much as I liked to bike. He likes to stop and check changes in familiar places - an old frisbee or ball that someone left at the dog park, a dog treat left under his favorite sleeping spot in the house. I had to let go of trying to make him think only what I wanted him to think - I had learn how to see him think. It was such a different concept for me. I don't know why - it was how I learned.
2 years later, we lived in Davenport, IA. It was a new little development called Kimberly Village. We lived about a block away from the village pool and across the street from a creek. For my birthday I got a bike with three speeds. It was purple and had a sparkly purple banana seat. The shift for the speeds was on the handle bars. The pedals were white and plastic. It was the best bike in the neighborhood. I would spend hours on my bike. I would ride it up the hill to the pool and race down the hill to the park on the creek. I took clothes pins and attached playing cards to the spokes so that it clicked when I pedaled. I went on adventures all by myself, riding around the neighborhood with no one but me. I loved it.
When I was 14 or so and we had moved to Minnesota and back to Iowa again, I was given a 10 speed bike. It was gold with a small black seat and drop bars. This was a whole new biking experience. I loved this bike. I rode it everywhere. My friend Jana and I would take long bike rides with her family or with the church group. One day she call me and asked if I wanted to bike across the river to her the shop that her dad owned. She said it would be fun, we could see how many horns we could get to honk at us. So away we went halter tops and Nair short shorts shorts - oh, those were different days -
Then I went to college and moved to Minneapolis. I bought a red Raleigh 14 speed bike for city biking. I would leave for hours riding the lakes and parkways. Sometimes I would meet someone out in the farm roads and bike the rolling hills in Wisconsin. I went without a car for a summer and biked everywhere working two jobs at a time. My red Raleigh was stolen and I was heart broken. So I bought a cross over road/racing bike - a blue Raleigh Perigee. It lived through several triathlons with me. I put a computer on it and became obsessed with cadence and strength. I lifted weights and worked my cadence and biked on the weekends. I biked places and locked up my bike and went for a swim in a lake or a run around a lake. I sought out hills in the city that I could bike up for a workout. I watched my cadence and shifting....never go below 60-70 rotations per minute....I found the Luce Line and the Stillwater trails. On the weekends I would throw my bike out the back door, grab a Power Bar, water down some Gatorade and take a couple of bucks and leave. I plugged in my headphones and biked as fast as I could. I biked often enough and in enough places to eventually get accosted by enough men that I was no longer afraid. I wasn't stupid but I wasn't afraid.
I put a rack on it and went on bike trips with my friend Molly. We packed our tent, camping gear and food on the bikes, left our cars and biked the north shore and the south shore of Lake Superior. We biked through central Minnesota. We camped and hiked. I became proficient at changing bike tires. I became more independent and sure. I have memories of hiking state parks in full moons without a flashlight. Sweet memories of hiking over a hill in Canada through unbelievably thick swarms of mosquito's to an overlook while a hawk whistled above us circling and hunting over the view. I have memories of stopping to by an ear of corn at lunch and sitting on a high piece of rock along Lake Superior and eating raw corn watching rock climbers go up and belay down the sheer face of the rock. I remember being blown around by log trucks and desperately trying to keep up with my friend Molly. I remember how incredible rice cakes, tahini and peanut butter tasted during a break. I figured out how to use little stoves and survived.
It was my friend Molly that introduced me to Off Road Biking. I loved it - to ride quietly through the woods. The first time we went to a place in Wisconsin to a forest where there were miles and miles of trails for all different skill levels. We accidentally rode onto a difficult trail - steep hills and single track, rocks - we screamed and laughed and were exhausted at the end of the day. Kristin took me back to this forest for a birthday a few years later and we started biking together. I like my mountain bike. I like biking and I like biking with Kristin and my friends.
My dad had to let go of the back of my seat - he had to let me go and trust that I would be okay - that he had given me enough confidence to keep on going. I might fall, I probably would fall, in fact I did fall. I was okay. He had to know that I could keep moving forward and making mistakes and hope that I would learn from making mistakes. When I fell I would be able to get up. At some point he must realize that I would never be done. That he couldn't be invested what I would be only what I was in the moment what we had right then when he let go of the seat. How much he gave me when he let go of the bike.
Every time I go to agility class I have to let Gromit take a chance and try - and sometimes I let go and he misses. Sometimes I am so focused and think he has to do it my way or no way. Sometimes I forget that what I really want is for him to have amoment of fun, every moment to be fun. We will never be done - with agility or being together and dancing around the world. It is safe in our house and our fenced yard. It is relaxing for us all. Gromit is not satisfied with a fenced yard and picture window. He likes new things and old dog friends. He likes great smells. He likes a walk in the woods in the moonlight and a walk in the woods in the rain. He likes to run through the snow and the water. He likes to run as much as I liked to bike. He likes to stop and check changes in familiar places - an old frisbee or ball that someone left at the dog park, a dog treat left under his favorite sleeping spot in the house. I had to let go of trying to make him think only what I wanted him to think - I had learn how to see him think. It was such a different concept for me. I don't know why - it was how I learned.
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