Regularly on morning walks, bicyclists nod at me as they peddle up the hill to reach the mountain. Leroy pulls on his leash trying to run after them. He envies their speed the way I admire their agility, their athletic ability, which I've never had.
I did own a bike soon after I was married when my husband wanted to fill in the gap of what he considered my huge childhood deprivation. I had never learned to ride, so he bought me a beautiful, shiny red bicycle. I was young but devoid of a blind, bold, fearless, daring, adventurous spirit. Again, it's something I've never had.
My bicycle training failed. The second I saw a vehicle approaching on the oncoming lane, I toppled. Irrationally, I feared the road was too small for both of us. My husband laughed so hard before accepting that I am irreparably bicycle impaired.
I know we should never say never but I know I'll never experience a bicycle ride. I've never really wanted to. But I do want to conquer other fears, as I accept my vulnerabilities. And I want more mornings...to keep walking.
Mornings come and go
Travelers find their own way
To the mountain top
(For Poets United.)