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Why I Finally Learned to Ride a Bike at 35
Growing up in suburban New Jersey during the ’80s, I completely missed out on that classic moment where kids take off their training wheels, wobbling down the street while parents cheer them on. Instead, I was the kid who just kept falling. My friends seemed to take to biking like ducks to water, riding effortlessly to school while I struggled to stay upright. After numerous attempts and lots of frustration, I simply gave up and let my bike gather dust in the backyard.
As I got older, I accepted that biking just wasn’t for me. When I saw a group of kids zooming around on their bikes, I’d shy away, knowing I couldn’t keep up. Getting my driver’s license in 1995 felt like a relief; I could avoid the embarrassment of my lack of balance, especially as biking became less popular. College happened, and I walked or drove everywhere, still hiding my secret.
Years later, I finally confessed to my wife that I had never learned to ride. To my surprise, she was supportive but also insistent: “It’s time to learn.” So in my late 20s, I gave it another shot, but it ended in disaster. I borrowed my wife’s bike, but after a series of falls, I knew I needed help. I enlisted a friend who was a biking enthusiast, but after hours of practice, I still couldn’t ride. That attempt left me feeling defeated, and I didn’t think about it again for a long time.
Then my wife found an adult biking class offered by a local organization. I knew this could be my chance—after all, everyone else in the class was just like me. But as soon as I stepped onto the bike, I felt like that same insecure kid again. If I couldn’t master it here, what hope did I have?
After some gentle nudging from my wife, I finally bought my own bike, hoping that practicing alone would make a difference. I told the shop owner about my struggles, and he gave me some awkward advice, but I left with my new bike anyway.
Fast forward to 2009, when my son Alex was born. Suddenly, learning to ride felt less like a personal challenge and more like a necessity. I wanted to be able to teach him how to ride someday, so I decided to give it one last shot. With my daughter’s due date fast approaching, I gathered my courage and enrolled in that adult biking class again.
Motivation can be a funny thing. This time, with visions of my kids in my mind, I took off down the street, wobbling but finally upright. I was 35 years old, and for the first time, I didn’t fall.
Now, over two years later, I’m not a biking expert by any means. I still get a bit anxious when cars pass too closely or when I’m stuck behind a group of tourists on Segways. But I can ride! This summer, I took the training wheels off Alex’s little bike, and while he hasn’t quite mastered it yet, I know that when he falls, I’ll be right there to help him get back up.
So if you’re feeling like you’re too old to learn something new, remember that it’s never too late.
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In summary, learning to ride a bike at 35 was a journey filled with ups and downs (literally!). It took years of frustration, but with the right motivation and support, I finally overcame my fears. Now, I can confidently ride alongside my children, ready to help them when they need it most.