Harley, my MTB, had to go…

When I started on this journey to bike as a cross training from running, I was so surprised that after a few times, I genuinely liked it so much that my schedule took a revamp and interspersed running and biking so that I could have BOTH sports in tow.

I know, deep inside when I was hitting 23kph speed and gone as far as 80km, ALL BY MYSELF, that I was getting in competition form.

Then the accident came and “Harley” took a backseat and to this day, is “parked” outside my condo. Everyday, I gaze at it, missing the high I got from biking, missing the free spirit that was starting to dream big… Despite my gains in health and ROM, I knew it will take awhile before I ride on a bike again, IF i will ever ride a bike again. I don’t know…if you ask me right now, I will tell you in the eye that I WILL GET BACK ON THE SADDLE. When, i don’t know yet.

So many people have discouraged me from riding again, some to the point of saying I was crazy to even think of it after what I’ve been through.

He said it best – “You’re accident-prone. Can’t ride a bike again.”

His offer was practical. Take away the bike and buy another one when I’m ready.  My eyes welled in tears, but it was for the best. My Harley started to collect dust and rust. I could make someone happy by giving it up. But why did it hurt so much? Like saying good bye to a good, good friend.

What’s that cliche when things are inexplicably painful? “It’s surreal” may be an overstatement but I have a deep sense of loss right now…