Grannies in Granny--Learning to Use My Bicycle Lock

 Obviously, I am not among these riders! (In fact, I don't see any women!)


Well, I chose the name for my biking club with the intent that we would move slowly. That is very true! But, we are moving!


Example, I bought a bicycle lock about three months ago. First, it was faulty, so I had to return it. I got the new one wrapped around my handle-bar post, and have been riding with it there ever since. So long, in fact, that I forgot the combination, since I haven't actually used it. All my rides have been exercise/enjoyment only--no errands.


But today, I wanted to run two errands, but I couldn't use my lock without the combo. My husband helped me by trying out all the possible combinations of the most likely digits I gave him, while I began a search of my filing cabinet, index card box, and finally my purse. I knew I had written it down somewhere. My husband beat me to the combo! Thanks, honey!

At the first establishment, it took almost four minutes for me to fumble around and get my  bike locked properly to the wrought iron fence, since no bicycle rack was available. I went in, did my errand, came out, fumbled around unlocking the bike and re-wrapping the cable around my handlebar post, only to discover that I had forgotten my water bottle inside.


Well, I wasn't going through that again! So, I just kind of hid my bike in the bushes, ran in, got my water bottle, and ran back out again! The second stop fared better than the first--no quicker with the lock--but better.


Upshot of it all, I surmounted the hill of challenge--I ran the two errands and used my bike lock for the very first time. My next set of errands will be much easier. Yaay! Such is life in the uphill slow lane.

Grannies in Granny_4b

I can't believe it! I had this overwhelming urge to go out bicycling again today, so I did! One of my goals is this beautiful, country valley road, but to get there, I have to go up a fairly steep, long hill. That's where I decided to go this afternoon.

It was a contest of my lungs. I don't have great lungs. I tried standing on the pedals for quite a way, but I found out that is more taxing on the lungs than sitting in low, low. So I sat in low, low, so low that I kind of wobbled my way up the hill. The muscles were okay, but the lungs were really working. Finally, I made it to the top.

Not wanting to have to come back that same elevation, I turned back down the same side, saving the beautiful valley for an earlier time of day.

I tooled around for another half an hour or so, exploring little retirement communities I'd seen but never driven through.

Now, I really am spent and content to call it a day. Thank-You, Lord.

auntpreble_blog@yahoo.com

Grannies in Granny_4

Well, today I really was in Granny. No one in their right mind would actually call them hills. They were like having a mole on your skin. Or the little nubbins on a football or basketball. I kept having images of Team Postal (now extinct) whizzing along at 60 mph. But for me it was a challenge.

I went about 2 1/2 miles very gently uphill, with lots of downs in-between. My goal was to pedal to my church to help out at the annual church cleaning. It took me 40 minutes to get there, as opposed to 13 minutes by car. But I did it! Sitting all the way.

Afterwards, I took a slightly different route to FedEx Kinko's to see the proofs of a job. I took my bike into the shop with me, because I still don't have a lock. I went home the back way, and had enough "oomph" left over to take a little side tour at the park near my house.

I decided to try a fairly steep, though short, hill standing up. I got about half way up in a high first, but it killed my abdominal muscles, so I had to sit again in granny and weave back and forth. But I made it!

Near the top, I shifted into 2nd, and my chain popped. Now what was I going to do?

For one thing, I can't lift and hold my bike with one arm while working with the other. Stooping over I know is very bad for the back. I pulled the chain a couple of times and got a fistful of grease (an exaggeration, to be sure). So, I thought I had no choice but to walk the 15 minutes home, including the downhill of what I had just pedaled up.

But somehow, I wasn't satisfied with that. It was definitely humiliating to be on foot, walking my bike. So I just thought a little bit. It seemed that what I needed was something like a nice block of wood to support the frame so I could work with the back wheel. And, in less than a minute--there it was! Not a block of wood but a nice, little wall.

I thought of asking permission from the homeowner first, but just went ahead and straddled the bike over the wall. I found out that my chain was really springy and stretchy, not like the chains I remembered from my childhood. So with a little pull here and a little pull there, a little turning of the wheel, I got it!! You can just imagine how proud and pleased I felt.

I even did a very outdoorsy, camping type thing--I got a handfull of mulch and rubbed my fingers until most of the grease was gone. I didn't want that yuk on my handlegrips!

Home was a pleasure, and I even rode up my driveway in a middle-low 2nd standing up.

Application

Psalm 147:1 Praise the LORD. How good it is to sing praises to our God, how pleasant and fitting to praise him!

auntpreble_blog@yahoo.com

Personal Word--Grannies in Granny_2

Today after work I went out for my second ride. Yesterday I had done a few hills in my neighborhood, so today I decided just to do some flats.

I went for all the cul-de-sacs in the neighborhood across the wash from our house. I practised up and down shifting on both the right and left hand, not quite mastering my dyslexia on the two click shifts on each side.

I felt uneasy on the right turns, so I practiced a few of those. Soon I was purposefully weaving in and out, dodging wet leaves on the pavement, trying to get the feel of the bike, to trust it and me, trying to get a sense of balance back and "oneness" with the bike.

We had had a rainstorm yesterday and today. The air was crisp, the wind blowing. Various people were out walking their dogs. I chose a greenbelt path, and soon enough the pavement ended and was replaced by chewed up asphalt. A sense of granny-style adventure took hold of me as I hit wet dirt, broken sticks and twigs, and mud! Yes, I was off the pavement!

But it was a dead end, so I returned to the cul-de-sacs. On one of them a little girl was on the sidewalk in front of her house. She seemed to be just lollegaggling along, humming a little song to herself.

That one scene transported me back to my childhood. I remembered countless times of being outside on days just like this one "playing". What did I play? The same thing the little girl was playing--whatever came to mind.

The water in the gutters reminded me of sticks and leaves I used to send down the "river" as a child. There had been stones to pick up and throw for no reason, animals and fairies up in the clouds.

I was getting the feel of my bike and I went out onto a main street. I crossed over into the bike lane, turned into the left hand lane at the signal, stopped and waited for the light to change with two or three cars also stopped behind me.

I was in the bike lane of a main boulevard now, and I had to plan out the next light, which was my own street. I needed to cross over. I decided to press the pedestrian walk button, but how to alight from my bike gracefully? I've adjusted the seat high for full leg extension, and I have to stand on tippee-toes to reach the pavement. Aha! The curb!

I pressed the button, waited for the green, and crossed the four lane divided highway with cars stopped in both directions. I did it! A few more cul-de-sacs on my way home, then up our driveway in the lowest of the lows, my lowest granny gear, still in the saddle. I made it!

Applications

1) I am so grateful to my son for being vocal and demonstrative about his love for bicycling. He even got me out on one. He wasn't pushy, or obnoxious, or self-righteous. He just loves bikes and wanted to share that love for something he truly believes is good for people.

When is the last time I have ever shared the Lord as enthusiastically as my son shared his bicycling with me?

2) As I look back on the thirty bicycle-less years I spent, all on account of something as small as not wanting to wear a helmet, I can't help but think of the "little" reasons and excuses that many people give for not turning to Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior. I knew I really wanted a bike all those years; I just didn't want the helmet. How many know they really need and want the Savior, but they allow something small to stand in their way?

3) I'm sharing this account on my blog because getting my bike has been the most fun and exhilaration I have had in a very long time. It's great! I also want to share that knowing Jesus Christ and through Him God my Father in a very personal way is also very great! A bike costs money, but eternal life is free to us. Just turn to Christ, confess to Him your sins, ask His forgiveness, and believe He died on the cross and was raised again for you. I waited thirty years for my bike. Don't wait another minute to ask Jesus into your life.

auntpreble_blog@yahoo.com

Personal Word--Grannies in Granny_1

I was born and raised on a bicycle...ok, that's a figure of speech. But, bicycling is what we kids did all through my childhood. There were no tricks back then--just plain and simple no gear, then three gear, then, finally the ten speed. I was seventeen when I owned (and lost) my last personal bicycle. I did ride my husband's bike for a season about thirty years ago. (We've been married just over forty years).

I'm sixty-one now. And I just bought a new bicycle!!!!!!! Actually, I've wanted one ever since my husband's broke down. I mean like really wanted one. Even had it on a list once. I finally crossed it off the list when I fully had given up on the idea of ever riding one again.

What was it holding me back from just getting one? ......the helmet! When I was a child, helmets had not been invented. I have a very broad face and I cannot stand anything on my body that's tight anywhere. I buy my eyeglasses too big--they do slide constantly, but--very important--they don't hurt.

So, I just couldn't bring myself to try out bicycling again, all because of not wanting to wear a helmet.

And then, just this year, along came my son, Orion. He is into bicycling big time. I hadn't seen him for six months, and when I visited him last summer in San Francisco for a few hours, what did we do? He drove me all around the city and up into the hills along the exact course of his forty mile bike loop! I was glad to let him drive. It was a foggy day, and we couldn't see too much.

So I knew my son loved to bicycle. When he invited the whole family up for Christmas, we all gladly accepted. As a gift, my son rented us all bicycles for the day, and with a little cajoling, off we went. That's all it took. I was hooked. I made up my mind to buy myself a bicycle. About three weeks later, I did.

But the helmet...I had been wearing my helmet so loose in San Francisco that it had been sliding around my head a little. Plus, I was wearing it tilted back. In the bike store, I had my bike all picked out and it was up at the cash register. Then we went to find a helmet. The salesperson put one on my head, and I started screaming and protesting quite loudly. Too tight! Too tight! "It has to be worn that way," he said, "or else if you fall, the helmet will get knocked off and do you no good at all."

So we tried a different model helmet. Finally, we made a deal. He would put the bike on hold for me, I would buy the helmet and wear it around for a few hours. If I still wanted the bike, I could come back to get it.

That worked, and I bought the bike.

To Be Continued

auntpreble_blog@yahoo.com