A bike story

Up until I conceived Will, I was a pretty active woman. I ran occasionally (although with my short legs it looked more like a fast hop/walk), enough to enter a short race every now and then.

I also biked, a lot. I would ride 5-10 miles 3-4 evenings a week and on Saturday I would get up early and ride 35-50 miles. I LOVED it. When I first got into riding, I was working as manager of an Editorial Department and for my birthday everyone pitched in and game me a $300 gift card to a fancy bike shop. No, I wasn't that popular; they were all suck-ups.

Regardless, I went and tried all the bikes in my size and decided on a nice Giant. I loved that bike. If you've never ridden a more expensive bike; as opposed to the one's from Walmart, it's hard to explain. But there is a difference. And I know if I bought a $1,000 bike I'd be just as enamoured with the amazing quality; but let me keep my happy memories.

Before Will was born, I conceived and lost two children. So when we found out I was carrying again the doctor told me to do nothing, not to get stressed, and I should have exercise. So, I quit riding my bike, got laid off from my job, had my oldest move away from home, and almost broke up with Steve.

Since Steve was having to support all of us, his hours got longer and longer. And so did mine. I couldn't take a baby out on my bike and by the time Steve got home I was too exhausted or it was too late. Years slowly crept by and I just crept into larger sizes each year and became less and less active. About a year ago I started riding again. I found a bicycle trailer at a garage sale and I'd hook it up and take Will riding with me.

Oh, it wasn't the sole-enriching experience riding pre-Will was; but it was working. I was rebuilding muscle mass and Will and I both were getting much needed sun.

Then Bonnet wrecked the bike she was using to get to and back from work. At the time, she was living about 10 miles from where she worked and she didn't get off work until after midnight; when the buses no longer ran. I gladly lent her my bike. A few weeks later it was stolen while she was at work. I never asked if she locked it up; I just assume she did and left it at that.

For the last year, I've been planning on getting a new bike. I figured I could get a decent one for $200 to $300. It never happened. A friend of mine purchased a $70 bike from an HEB Plus and she has been riding it and enjoying time with her son. And finally I had to look at things realistically . . . it's not like I'll be riding long distances and I'm certainly not in any shape to participate in races. And the biggest point of all . . . I can afford a $70 bike.

Yesterday, my brother Jessy ended up working about 40 miles from my house. He called, needing me to pick up some paint and bring it out to him. When I did he gave me an extra $100 for my troubles. And no, I didn't turn it down. I spent 4 hours and 1/4 tank of gas picking up and delivering the paint to him. As soon as he gave me the money I knew just what I was going to do with my "God money" as Tori calls it. I would buy a bike.

I didn't tell Steve I had the money last night for fear his negativity towards my plans would sway me. So this morning, Will and I went to WalMart and picked up an okay mountain bike for around $70. It's a small frame, has 12 gears, and non-flat tires -- a real bonus around my house.

We fight it through the store. We fight getting it inside our Montero Sport. We fight getting it out of the Sport when we get home.

By the time we do get home, it is time for mommy to rest (aka: Will's nap time) and I tell Will that after my break we will go ride bikes. He has a small one with training wheels. When he gets up he is raring to go.

We go out and check the bike over and the tires are a little low. I start up the air compressor and check for how much air the tire should hold. I see a limit of 197 and think that's high; but what do I know. I fill it up and check it and it's getting no where near 100 even. Oh, well, it's plenty hard enough so I go to feel the other tire up when the back tire EXPLODES! Re-looking at the limits I see that the 197 was weight max per tire; the air pressure was 50 max -- that tire had 90.

So there I set, after years of not being able to ride or even of having a bike, after using unsolicited money that could have paid a bill to get me a bike I was settling for, to still being unable to go for a ride.