Riding bikes with my mom
When I was little, my mom had a bike.
I don’t know if she remembers it. I sure do.
It was red.
It was a five speed with a step through frame, swept back bars and hand brakes. It had fenders. It glided. The seat had springs for comfort. It was a solid and sturdy ride. I loved riding bikes with my mom. I loved how she rode.
My mom was always steady on her bike. She wasn’t fast. She wasn’t slow. She was steady. We would go off on adventure - laps around the neighbourhood. My mom on her bike with big wheels and gears would glide along. At the same time, I’d pedal frantically. I’d start by rushing ahead, bouncing off kerbs, popping wheelies and doing really bad assed skids. Then I’d race back to her.
Sometimes I’d race so far away that I’d lose sight of my mom. I’d panic a bit. Where is she? Where am I? I’d circle around for a bit, confused and worried.
And my mom? She’d be there cycling steadily along. She’d catch right up to me. We would keep going along. There would be times she was ahead, other times behind me. Her cadence was fairly constant, consistent and reliable. As a wee one, the subdivision we lived in was unspeakably big. There were eight streets and a school!
She rolled along with certainty and we explored every road in the place.
Riding bikes with my mother was a great gift. Her steady pace was a great match for my erratic explorations. I could explore knowing that when I went too far, I merely had to wait and she would be there any minute. With her consistency, her steady pedaling, I went further and longer than I ever could have alone.
Most of my life I’ve been lucky. I’ve found people who can pedal steadily when I’m out exploring. I’m not talking about bikes here eh? Sometimes I get lost, far away from anything I know. Eventually, steadily, the others catch up.
Much of my time now is spent with a measured, steady cadence. I’m professionally steady for people. As adults there are times when we need to be steady. It’s our role, our jobs. It’s time to lead. Glide. Come up with a consistent cadence. Cycle. Spin. Show up. Be steady.
And, what we often forget about is the joy of getting lost and the pleasure to return to a steady, consistent reliable place.
How are you steady?
Who is steady for you?
How do you steady yourself?
Who do you steady yourself for?
When do you get to go off on wild explorations?
Who stays steady for you?
How do they do it?