The Zen of the Bicycle

'I want to learn how to ride a bike!'

It started with that idea. It was like a line from a Queen song. This is not as momentous as learning to drive a car or climbing the Mt. Everest. We are not talking about a Harley motorcycle. We are talking about a bicycle. 2 wheels, pedals, no engine, just an ol' bike. 'Boris bike' to be precise.

The afternoon is just right, sunny yet with a gentle wind. The park is filled with school children coming out of the building in front of the park to stay for a while. A number of bikers zooming in and out the field. And there we were, successfully rented a bike for £2 and ready to try out our patience on one another. We had a pathway almost secured for ourselves, aside from the people who would pass by every now and then. 

 I learned how to ride a bike from my late father when I was around 5 or 6 years old. I could still recall upgrading from a bike with two small wheels supporting the back wheel to just one. And then the day came when my dad said he'll let me ride a proper bike on my own. I could not count how many times I fell, stumbled and almost ended up crying. Probably I did cry. 

He kept pushing me, literally and figuratively.

We were running too fast and I was telling my dad not to let me go as he was holding at the back of my seat. Apparently he did let go of me metres away from where I was with my bike, on my own. 

Teaching a family member how to ride a bike at a young age is quite normal. Teaching your girlfriend at a proper adult age is almost always not the best idea. She obviously had doubts, and fears. I did not deviate from her fears. I did tell her I earned my scars and bumps and pains. It's alright to recognise that. 

On that afternoon, I believe we have reached The Zen of the Bicycle.

Reality vs Expectations

'I won't give you cliches like: 'Great job' or 'if I can do it, you can too' or 'it's okay'. We want results at the end of the day, you'll be riding that bike on your own.' 

If I told her she did a good job despite her numerous attempts and not learning how to ride a bike at the end of the day, then I just lied.

Patience.

I asked, 'Are you sure? Are you ready?'

She said, 'As long as you are patient with me.'

'No, I can have all the patience. I will tell and teach you the same things over and over again. You have to be patient with yourself' I replied. And she was.

Honesty.

Her hands on the handlebars were not steady. I was standing on her left side as she always tend to lose her balance on that side. I was holding the bike seat with my right hand, and the handlebar with my left hand.

'You are not adjusting your balance. Your bike will go as where you will take it. If you're going left, shift to right.' It confused her at first, and told her to feel it herself.

Failure.

I emphasised on how to properly press on the brakes with both hands and to land and stop with one foot on the ground. She was initially stopping with both feet and jumping on to one side of the bike. She was able to bump into metal rails and posts before pressing on the brake.

'The metal post can't move' I told her with a dash of sarcasm. I wanted her to understand what would happen if she didn't practice safety at first.

'I'm not expecting you to ride a bike in a real road today, but you must be able to avoid a running kid on the path for example.'

I told her even the best bikers in the world can crash, it's best to be safer than not.

Trust

'Get on position, let's do it again' as we were gearing up for another run to practice her balance.
'Wait, there's  a little boy on the way' she feared.
'Do you trust me not to let you run over that boy?'
'Umm..yeah.' 
'Okay then, let's go' as she placed her feet on the pedals and I got ready for another push.

It was not about if she trusted me, it was about building her trust in herself and her ability to keep pedalling despite the risk of running over a toddler.

Coordination

She was having trouble which to do first, whether to pedal harder or to maintain balance. I showed her as I rode the bike on what she was doing and what could happen. I knew she was overthinking. I came up with the simplest that I could come up with: Power and Balance. Power, which shortens my phrases which pertains to pedal harder. Balance, which stands for her handlebars. 

Passers by were looking around us. I was shouting 'Powerbalancebalancepower' like a crazy man. I was supporting her bike not with two hands, but with just two fingers under her bike seat. 

Success

We were going faster, I was now half-running with her by her left side.

Then I raised my arms forward to show her: 'Look, no hands!'

'Are you still holding me?!' knowing she could not believe she's riding it by herself.

I ran faster than her and answered: 'Nope!'

A video posted by Reigun Decena 💯 (@manikreigun) on Apr 24, 2015 at 11:30am PDT

It was a great exercise for us both. Physically and mentally.

Her being a student and I being the teacher. But even more so, I was glad we managed to get through as we felt happier that we did it together. We survived the day without frustration or disappointments. Her joy brought the inner child in me as I felt I also just achieved something for the first time. We are great as a team. It was when she gave me a huge hug that I realised it was all worth it.

When was the last time you did something for the first time? 

When was the last time you taught someone for the first time?

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