29. My First Bicycle

No, this wasn’t a pink thing with tassels and stabilising wheels! I have actually owned bikes before – I had a tricycle when I was 2, a BMX when I was 10, a mountain bike when I was 21 and my second mountain bike when I was 28.

This obviously implies that I am a keen cyclist but some of my friends might beg to differ. I have done a fair amount of cycling in my time but it’s been nothing more than a hobby. Maybe it’s a bit more than a hobby. When someone suggests something like “Hey, let’s cycle round Mull,” or “Let’s cycle from John O’Groats to Glasgow,” I’m quick to sign up. Continually, I have the thought running through my head, “I’m a cyclist. I can do this.” Foolish I know – half way round I’m always the one that’s at the back, holding back the tears with a sore arse struggling to push my vast bulk up the next hill vowing never to cycle again.

Looking at this trip to Oz as an opportunity to do something about the belly I’d accumulated over the last few years, I made my mind up to buy my first road bicycle. I really wanted to spend more time on the road and back home I’d even got rid of my off-road tires on the mountain bike and changed them for slicks. So, credit card in hand, I walked into Clarence Street Cyclery and a great bloke called Anthony helped me cycle back out. Mind you he also talked me into spending over $2000 which is probably why he was so friendly.

So thanks to that little purchase we would almost definitely not be buying a car this year and I certainly wouldn’t be able to afford to take the train to work every day. At least that meant that I’d have to cycle the 18km to the Hospital. Oh dear. On the bright side, there may be a later chapter entitled “My First Six-Pack (and I don’t mean beer)”.