Radio Flyer

I bought a bicycle off Craigslist.

After weeks of spinning classes, I was feeling envious of the bike riding commuters I would see while on the bus to work. So free, so flowing as they cruised by and not at all like the insane zipping of bike messengers. I could do that, I thought! It only takes me a 20-minute bus ride to the office now. Riding a bicycle could save some of that time and give me outdoors exercise. Just what I need!

I logged onto Craigslist and searched for "womens bicycles." Scrolling through the "no", "oh no!", and "oh hell no!!" price offerings, one ad caught my eye. Opening the link, up pops a photo of a sleek, red, women's 10-speed bicycle. Kewl, and not only for the right price but the seller would bring it to the subway station if the potential buyer had no car.

Perfect! I have no car!

The Seller replied to my inquiry about the bike and we scheduled our meeting at the Metro station. That day, I arrived early decked out in my short, black exercise pants, newly purchased helmet, and an orange t-shirt with white writing that says "when your life no longer fits, change it."

The tan SUV I had been told to look for pulled up with the bike on the back. My Seller came out, we shook hands and exchanged introductions as he unloaded the slightly scratched, but seemingly complete, working bike. He explained that since being recently laid off, repairing and selling old bicycles had become his part-time gig. That and watching his kids.

He rolled the bike over to me.

Like the pro-novice I am, I faked like I knew what I was looking at. I'd ridden my last bicycle before I entered junior high school and it was a black, 3-speed beauty. Now, I couldn't tell a chainring from an onion ring.

"Give it a ride," he said. Nearly toppling over while I swung my leg over the seat, I stood for a second making sure that all my neurons were firing and I could remember how to ride this thing (spinning class bikes are wonderfully stationary).

Once the data in my brain downloaded, I pushed off and sat on the seat. After a few wobbly feet, I got into my balance and pedalled around the mostly empty parking lot. "Not so bad," I thought as I rode in a wide circle.

Returning and dismounting better (hold the brake), I happily handed Mr. Mom the cash. He offered to help me with any adjustments I might need in the future for which I was very appreciative.

Riding home on the Metro with my n-used bike (pedalling it home at that distance was NOT an option), I felt like I'd just come from the toy store with a brand new toy! I also thought "Oh mah Gawd, what have I done now?! Would I even really ride this thing? I'm 50-friggin' years old! What if I get a flat? Is there a AAA for bicycles?!"

I knew that voice well. It has haunted and taunted me for years. Now I know how to shut it off and I did. I was blessed to find it, blessed to buy it and, above all, blessed to be physically able to ride it. I'd let God take care of the future.

Arriving at the closest stop to my home, I rolled it to the sidewalk, mounted up and rode it the 5 blocks home. Feeling the warm summer wind flow over me reminded me of why I loved riding my first bike. Freedom. Your own power propelling you forward. Awareness of everything going on around you. The clicking of the wheels as I glided down hill.

I rode into my building's garage, dismounted and took the elevator up to my apartment. There amongst books, papers, and furniture I put the kickstand down setting it beside the dinette set.

During a text message conversation with my best friend, I asked her what I should name my steed. "Radio Flyer," she texted back. Kewl, I like that.

And that's who "she" is. Radio Flyer in da house.