Biking: A Story of Anxiety

Bike riding, for some, can be a therapeutic experience. For me, it is a deeply rooted source of anxiety; attached to memories of frustration and defeat.

As I hop on the bike and attempt to begin peddling, I realize I haven't been on a bike in 16 years. This might be harder than I anticipated.

I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting; maybe I was hoping my nonexistent skills would come rushing back or that it would be as "easy as riding a bike?" I don't know, but was quickly enlightened to how difficult this bike ride would be. As I white-knuckled the handlebars and struggled to ride in a straight line, one of many anxiety attacks ensued. Through deep breath and perseverance, I managed to continue onward. Perhaps I was hoping it would get easier the longer I pursued or that as I exited the city and went deeper into the countryside, some semblance of a cyclist would appear. I must've been crazy to think either of those things would occur. Just as I was beginning to feel comfortable, something would quickly humble me. Whether another cyclist trying to pass or a parked car (that I did hit), everything caused me to seize up. In one instance, I was going down a small hill and tried to turn right, but for some reason froze up and just kept going straight. I managed to brake just centimeters from smashing into another parked car. This crash, however, could've really injured me. Needless to say, I don't anticipate my return to bike riding anytime soon.

Knowing this anxiety existed within me is one thing, but I am proud of myself for confronting this deeply rooted fear. Even if I was embarrassed when I almost or did crash, Bike riding was a humbling experience. There is still so much to learn about the world and myself.