Is writing like riding a bike:
Is writing like riding a bike some may find the comparison and odd one but certain similarities can be drawn. when you are young riding a bike is all about the joy and thrill of the open road, When I was young I didn't think of calories burned or cardio workouts I rode my bike for the sheer enjoyment. As a little girl I effortlessly pedaled my bike up and down streets feeling the wind in my hair I focused on nothing but the thrill of freedom. I would ride my bike to the top of the tallest hill simply to race back down allowing the bike to gain speed and then releasing the handlebars and with arms spread wide thrilling to the sense of freedom and danger. As a young woman I remember riding my bike through the canyons near the college I was attending. Biking was my escape from the demands of college life. I would push myself to the limits of my endurance climbing hill after hill ridding my body and mind of the stress boyfriends and college exams, then at the very peak heaving with lungs burning I allowed the myself to coast back down letting all my troubles fade away. As time went on and middle age caught up with riding became my duty, it was a means to an end. Spinning classes taught me the heart rate needed to burn off the poor dieting choice made the day before, I knew exactly how long and how hard I had to ride to burn of the that morning donut or extra piece of pie. I grew to hate riding and rarely did so simply for enjoyment. Last year after though I found an old bike at a rummage sell and since I had just bought the children new bikes thought perhaps I could get one for me and as a family we could ride bikes together some weekend. My first few excursions were less than satisfying I huffed and puffed as my children effortlessly passed me by laughing as they rode circles around me. I came home exhuasted sweaty and more than a little annoyed. I felt old, tired and out of shape. I cursed myself allowing myself to get so out of shape. Somwhere in the back of my mind though I remember those days of effortless joy and after my granddaughters received new bikes decided to keep at it. No grandmother worth her salt can deny the gentle pleadings of a pig tailed grandaughter and so I was stuck. One day I suddenly realized I was having fun. The next day I found myself sore and more than a little disgusted with my lack of physical fitness. I guess writing is a bit like riding a bike as a young woman I wrote recklessly in my journals, I tried poems and stories trying new tricks and stunts. As a young woman I wrote to express myself, my anger and frustration poured out on to the page giving structure to my racing thoughts. As a college student I wrote out of necessity, paying attention to each word or period , worring over my use of semicolons or phrases. Writing became a duty something I had to do to pass my classes and I no longer found any joy in. Now I have found that middle ground of knowing what is grammatically correct yet rediscovering the joy of self expression. .