The Demon Bike from Hell

I am a very large person. I am so large that I cannot sit in a regular-sized armchair, or those plastic molded armchairs, because I simply no longer fit in them. Recently, however, I decided it was time to lose the weight. When you are as large as I am, this poses a serious problem-- there simply IS no physical activity you can do without discomfort. I had serious back and knee pains, so aerobics and walking were out. I decided to get a bike-- the weight wouldn't be actually on my knees, so presumably, they would hurt less, and my back wouldn't feel the strain as much as trying to walk.

In small towns, it's very easy to find bikes at yard sales. I picked one up, paid for it, and stood there, staring at it. I was overcome by a sudden, uncontrollable fear. I had never been afraid of a bicycle before. This was ridiculous. I started to mount the thing, and stopped. I couldn't do it. I simply could NOT do it. I wheeled it to my parents' house, and left it in their garage.

A few days later, I took the bike out for my first attempt. I didn't fall, but I came close. I was fine with my right foot, but I could not get my left foot up far enough or fast enough to find the pedal. I swerved badly, and nearly hit a car nearby. I took a deep breath, and tried again. The exact same thing happened, except that a little boy from down the street had stopped to watch. I was far too embarassed to try again, and wheeled the bike back to the garage. A few days later, I tried again, with exactly the same result. I couldn't quite believe I was too fat to get my knee up to catch that damn pedal. I had to do something. I couldn't go on like I was-- quite a few times while online, I had had heart palpitations, and I knew an attack was imminent. This bicycle thing simply HAD to work.

As you may know, I work in a home for the developmentally disabled. One of the women who lives in my home owns a 3-wheeled bike. I looked her bike over carefully. This was my answer! I could ride this sort of bike, without having to worry about falling over while my foot was searching for the pedal. I would be able to ride this easily. I started looking into buying one for myself.

Three-wheeled bikes are very expensive, even online. Also, they are shipped in boxes, and need to be put together. To a mechanically inept owl, this is NOT a good thing. I finally arranged to buy one at a local dealer, for the same price I would get online, plus they would put it together for me.

The big day arrived-- my bike was in. Mom and I climbed in Dad's truck to pick it up. I was extremely excited, and was already planning my first trips through the neighborhood. Mom was cautious. She warned me that 3-wheelers were extremely hard to ride at first, and that I should be careful. I blew her off with a roll of the eyes, and a "Yes, Mother."

The bike was beautiful. It was a bright, shiny blue, with white trim. It gleamed with the promise of health. I stepped up to it, and was overcome by the same fear I had had with the 2-wheeler. Any other person would have ridden the bike out to the truck, but I walked it out. We put the thing in the back of the truck, and drove to the church to practice.

I was insulted-- I didn't need practice! I was going to get on the thing, and ride it home from the church. We pulled the bike off the truck, and I stood there, staring at it. I'd paid almost 400 dollars for this stupid thing, and I was going to ride it! I got on the bike, and pushed off.

Bikes can go FAST! I immediately stopped the thing, scared to death. Mom laughed at me. She said, "try again," and I did. I rode an entire 3 feet, screaming the wholetime. She kept assuring me she was holding onto the back end of the bike, and that all was well. This woman is in her early 60's, and I knew she was not running alongside of me. Ahhhhhh, pleasant fiction allows us to brave so much more. Within ten minutes, I was no longer panicking, and an hour later, I was weaving in and out of the (very) few cars in the parking lot, with enough success to make my head spin. I decided to try the street. Bad mistake. Streets are not as even as parking lots, and they have a definite slope. I immediately started drifting down to the right, and nearly crashed into the curb. I walked the bike back to the parking lot, and started practicing turns again.

Turns on a 3-wheeler are not like turns on a normal bike. Rather than leaning into the turn, you must lean away from it. Also, the steering is much more unwieldy. That first day, I had serious trouble trying to get the bike to go in the direction I wanted it to. When my rear started to get too sore, I quit, and we loaded the bike up on the truck to go home.

The next day, Mom dragged me and the bike to the park. We practiced for about an hour, and by the end of that time, I almost felt like I was the one in control, and not the bike. I was now able to keep the thing going in the same direction for longer than 2 minutes, and even to turn (somewhat). A few days later, we took the bike to the park again. I was getting more comfortable, and was pretty much able to ride the thing without panicking any longer. I was ready.

I rode the bike to my parents' house. I managed to go almost an entire block without the thing trying to jump the curb. However, it's 5 blocks to their house, and after 3, I felt too jittery, gave up and walked the rest of the way. While I was there, Dad decided to try the bike out-- he ascribed my problems as female vapors. He rode the bike into the bird feeder and into a ditch. He dragged himself and the bike out of the ditch, and demanded I take the thing back. I walked the bike home, giggling at my dad the whole time.

I HAD to learn how to ride the bike now! I was going to show my dad that all females aren't worthless prats. I rode the bike over to visit several more times, and by the third attempt, I was able to stay on it the whole time, and without running into the curb. I was actually getting the hang of this. I began braving longer trips, with a fair amount of success, and was able to ride the bike to work.

It's been 3 months now, since I got the bike. I go everywhere on it, with absolutely no problems. My leg muscles are getting stronger, and my knee and back problems have diminished greatly. I've lost a good deal of weight, and no longer have heart palpitations. I actually enjoy riding the bike, and even though I hope soon to be able to ride a 2-wheeler again, I plan on using the 3-wheeler for shopping, as it has a very large basket in the back.

In case you're interested, when I reach 190 pounds, I intend to buy a unicycle, and learn to ride that. My poor mother thinks I'm insane.