Balancing Act

"Oh, it'll come back to you...", they say rather blithely. Erm, there is a base supposition in that statement to suggest that I had it to begin with for it to actually come back to me, yes? My skills on a bicycle are notoriously laughable. I can send family and friends into gales of convulsive laughter with my simple admission at being asked if I can cycle. Erm, sort of... as long as I don't have to turn or stop, I can get by on perpetual motion on straight roads. While it's a useful skill to have to generate unlimited mirth at a gathering, it tend to be more prophylactic in nature when it comes to actually venturing atop one.

Still, some reckless synapse frizzles a signal that sends a, "Why not?" in response to a "Do you want to go for a ride?" and suddenly, I'm looking at Deboo wheel out Jaideep's bike with a dry mouth. Shit. Why on earth did I say yes? Gingerly, I take the bike and nearly unbalance it and myself. Not what could be referred to as an auspicious start. Deboo starts to look a tad worried and suggests it might be a good thing if she held on to me for a bit. I promptly concur. Perhaps I ought to have included my inability to start as well as stop, citing genetic inner ear related equilibrium issues. We wobble along unsteadily before my feet, calves and thighs start functioning as a single unit, and then Eureka! it did come back.... Crap. Now that we've got perpetual motion going, how the fuck do I stop?! Decidedly inelegantly, in a rush of cycle, woman and excited dog. Debrani consoles me with a, "Even I find it hard to turn in such a tight space". I survey the double car width road in front of me, and start to snigger. Yeah right. But she doesn't give up, "There's a roundabout at the end of the street where you can turn."

I grit my teeth and ignore the pleadings of my inner ear. The damn right pedal refuses to co-operate and my rude under breath mutterings has Deboo offering my encouragement. Miraculously, I manage to get rolling (in more than just a metaphorical sense) and suddenly, I find myself enjoying the wind rushing past my face. A mile with strategic roundabout assistance, I'm actually enjoying myself. I even manage to actually remember to softly squeeze the brakes and come to a stop in a relatively gentle fashion, without even a whiff of sailing over the handlebars. Deboo gauges I'm not likely to flip over into any of her neighbours garden and we take Polo along for his run without any untoward incidents from either dog or friend. A couple of more miles and I'm thinking perhaps I should give this another try tomorrow, over the question of its absolute necessity from my thighs. Given that I'm unlikely to have ever used these particular muscles before, I sympathise, but am chuffed by the unexpected enjoyment of the ride (not to mention success tinted only by minor wobbles).

It's ironic, but the last time I actually cycled was a good 15-20 years ago and that too at the hands of the relentless woman by my side. Must be karma. Or Debrani.