Biking on

33 years ago I began a journey. I should say my parents sent me on this journey and as the years went by I took on more and more responsibility for my steps. I got on a metaphorical bike. I fell and scraped my knees and my parents were there to wipe my tears. I took off the training wheels, rode, fell and when my parents were no longer watching I let the cuts heal on their own. I pedaled faster and farther to places where my support was miles away. I flew. I fell on scraped elbows. Sometimes I washed them off and other times I cried them away. Too often I let them fester, but I kept riding. I rode millions of miles on flat tires and warped rims, on cushy seats or no seats at all. I soared and I fell covered in scars until one amazing day I discovered a new way. I figured out how to make the cuts heal without scarring. I continued to soar and fall and, though I cried when I fell, I was finally able to laugh at the fall, fix my bike and put air in my tires. The riding got easier and the falls came fewer, farther apart and less disastrous. I rode on.

This blog is the story of this journey, how I came to ride and how I fixed my bike...how I ride it now.....the ways I do it NOW...believing in the power of this journey and why I feel others can too. I have many years left to ride and my biggest hope is that I can ride with others...taking more risks and showing less scars.