just like riding a bike

it's been a long time since i've ridden a bike. a very, very, very long time.

even as i love everything about it ... the sweat, the heavy breathing; the way it messes up my perfect hair and makes my thighs ache; the adrenaline rush, the fatigue, the speed at which i feel i might come apart ... still, i haven't been able to bring myself to climb aboard.

why? fear, mostly. and i don't know the neighborhood. there's a lot of traffic. and i don't have a helmet. or a little bell to signal i'm coming. and i don't know the hand signals or the etiquette and i'm afraid of falling ... of crashing ... again, actually ... and of acquiring new scars. (for a girl of such hardy stock, i am a remarkably fragile little egg. reparation would take at least all the king's horses and all of his men.)

but in this last week, i found myself having trouble walking where walking was once easy and so, when a bike was offered, i climbed on board. and now, it's something i can't get enough of ... like sugar. or music. the sheer joy of it, stealing away my oxygen ... taking me to a place where there are no words and no need to use them ... where hours pass like minutes and i feel the old instincts take over.

and everything aches. my muscles simultaneously rebelling and rejoicing ... from the motion, from the effort, from the absolute excitement of it ... and from the uncertainty of never knowing how far i'll go or how long i'll be gone or exactly where i'm headed.

there is no map to get me from here to there ... there is only instinct. and overwhelming desire. and hope. faint, but powerful.

i'm riding my bike again.

god. i hope i don't fall.



(and if i should, wish for me a spectacular crash - the kind that leaves me shattered, wonderfully, and with only the most interesting of scars.)