Before we embarked on our first ride outside the subdivision, we went for a practice ride inside. I learned how to get on the bike and how to pedal in tandem with Hubby. I learned how NOT to panic because I couldn’t really see where we were going—I could only see Hubby’s back. I learned […]
Before we embarked on our first ride outside the subdivision, we went for a practice ride inside.
I learned how to get on the bike and how to pedal in tandem with Hubby.
I learned how NOT to panic because I couldn’t really see where we were going—I could only see Hubby’s back.
I learned that it hurt when we rode over a hump, and it hurt when my hands gripped the handlebars too tightly—and if I did it for too long, my hands and arms would go numb.
There were times I lost my footing on the pedals, and I learned to put them back again.
The biggest lesson? I needed to have complete and utter faith in my hubby because he was the only one who could see clearly where we were going, he controlled the speed, he controlled the brakes, and he basically controlled everything. I was just along for the ride.
For someone like me who needs to be in control, this was the hardest lesson of all—much more than the physical things I needed to work on, which was obviously to work out enough to be able to withstand prolonged bike riding, because even if I was just along for the ride, I still needed to pedal like my life depended on it.
When we went on our first ride outside, I thought I was prepared mentally, physically and emotionally. That was until I saw myself on the mirror at 5:15 AM wearing the get-up my hubby got for me: bike shorts and jersey that matched his. Man they were unforgiving—all the extra pounds I gained during the lockdown were literally on display. I looked hard at my face that was starting to panic and said, “Yeyet, after all that effort and money to build this bike, after all the practice, the work-outs, after all the lessons learned on giving up control, you’re going to back out because your bike outfit accentuates your unwanted curves???”
It was a no-brainer, so after I won my inner debate, I took one final look at myself in the full length mirror, and smiled. “I am going on my first outside ride with Hubby!”
After eating a banana, I put on the bike gloves, the helmet and the mask, and went out of the house. It was still fairly dark.
We rode to the Taguig Lakeshore Hall via C-6. We went faster than our practice ride and it took some getting used to. The fast vehicles whizzing past us didn’t help remove the fear, but the excitement of finally riding outside with my hubby just took over.
It was also the first time in a very long time that I had gone outside our home, our village, and I was just soaking in the experience. While I couldn’t see straight ahead, any other direction was fine by me, so I was swiveling my head all the time.
Our friend (and best man during our wedding) Arnel Sejera joined us on his motorcycle, shielding us from oncoming traffic, taking videos and pictures.
Once we reached the Taguig, Lakeshore Hall, which was still closed, we just took some pictures beside the “Taguig” sign, and then started the trip back home. We passed through the bike lane and it was very crowded—people were jogging, biking, and just plain hanging around. It was early in the morning and I would normally have been asleep, but there I was, in the thick of things. We stopped to take more pictures at some areas.
There was just one point in the ride when panic crept in. We were biking alongside some teenagers who were pedaling furiously, and Hubby decided he wanted to race them. For a split second he might have forgotten he wasn’t alone, because he pedaled like he was being chased by the devil and my poor untrained legs just couldn’t keep up. My feet slipped off the pedals and I had to holler for him to slow down.
After that, we went back to a rhythm my legs could take. It was a fairly short ride. We left at 5:30AM, and we were back home before 8AM.
Check out the video edit of our Taguig ride below c/o Kid#1 Jamie Soriano.