03/02/2023

Building a Breeze

The tumultuous weather has eased, so we’ve been sitting in still, heavy, air.

While the rest of the US freezes over, Florida has been balmy. My morning walks have gotten muggy, the evenings greet us with gargantuan mosquitos and flurries of noseeums coming off of the Manchester Waterway. Each night we put on a show for our neighbours, an unintentional dance down the street as we slap away biting bugs in our stride.

Admittedly, January was a bit of a low month for me. The job hunt wore on as I opened myself up to freelancing opportunities and interviews. At times, it has felt arduous. Keeping a routine of walking the neighbourhood every day has helped me keep a level head. During one of our walks, we noticed a couple of bikes on the curb of a neighbour’s house, taped to the frame of one was a sign that read, “FREE.”

My husband’s inner treasure hunter lit up, he inspected the bright yellow one, deducing it to be an old Huffy Sundance. The handlebars were upside down, “bullhorn-style” Justice told me matter of factly, “they also call that suicide handlebars in mountain biking because they’re like hooks, they’ll catch on everything and take you with them.”

He hopped on, testing it out. The tires were full of air, and the brakes worked well enough. “The gears need to be fixed,” he informed me with a grin, nonetheless, it was the perfect project bike. He’d been manifesting a fixer-upper for the last year or so, and stumbling across it on a quiet Thursday walk made him giddy. As Justice rode his new treasure home, I walked back and met him halfway. 

“Do you want the other one?” he asked me, ecstatic with his find.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, something about it scared me a little. I hadn’t been on a bike for years. We cracked on with our walk, peering at the other bike that now sat alone on the curb. It had inviting cruiser handlebars and a wide seat. I tried to rationalize what I was afraid of. 

As a kid, I loved my bike. It felt like an extension of myself. We lived on a hill, so when I learnt how to ride without training wheels my parents simply told me “put your feet down on the ground if you want to stop,” and sent me downhill. Before I knew it I was happily bombing that hill and riding around the property pretending to be on horseback. One of my favourite family holidays was a trip to Merimbula. I spent most of my time riding around on my bike, exploring. Somewhere between the growth spurts and puberty, I guess I lost interest in riding.

Florida is notoriously flat, my house barely sits above sea level. It makes for peaceful walks but a terrifying storm surge. It also makes for the perfect bike-riding environment. We live at the end of a main road, the only traffic in and out is the people who also live here and the odd mail truck. I really couldn’t ask for better conditions to get back on a bike than right here. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable at first, but it wasn’t as if I was suddenly going to be training for Le Tour de France. 

As we walked through the sticky evening air I began to remember the way you could build a breeze on a bike; shifting the gears higher, building momentum on a flat. Rounding the edge of our street on the way home, I began to crave that feeling. The fear I had around getting on the bike, mainly the idea of embarrassing myself, quickly became insignificant. 

I began to think about investing some time in the bike. Cleaning it up, painting it and putting a bell on it. Secretly, I’ve always dreamed of fixing up an old Chevy Impala, and fixing up a bike would be a great first baby step towards that goal. As we walked around the bend of our street, the afternoon sun lit up the bike, still sitting by the curb. 

“Do you think you’ll do it?” Justice asked me.

“Maybe,” I replied, trying to act cool. Thankfully, my husband knows me better than this, he smirked and began to inspect it with me. 

The kickstand was stiff, and the height of the seat was a smidge too tall, but otherwise, it was in good nick. I climbed on and kicked off. 

It felt comfortable, and easy, like riding a bike I guess you could say. Justice chased after me, laughing at how quickly I took off. I pedalled harder, building up that momentum I’d been craving during our walk. He struggled to keep up, so I circled back and rode next to him the rest of the way home. As we got to the driveway I remembered we had plans to see my in-laws. 

“Should we get ready to go then?” I asked Justice.

He gave me a smile and said “maybe we could take the bikes for a quick ride.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” I grinned. 

He jumped on his bike and we powered down our street. I shifted the gears up and felt my legs enjoy pushing against the resistance. The bugs couldn’t catch us, the breeze was fabulous, and our neighbourhood flew by as we weaved around on two wheels. It was delightful, the fear I had been holding was gone. All I could feel now was excitement, to be riding around with my best friend and to have a project. 

This month, I encourage you to challenge your fears. See the good that can come from going against your assumptions and dare to be happy. 

Food For Thought

What's something you've been afraid to do?

Email me your answer.

“Be curious, not judgemental.”
―Walt Whitman