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 Education & Careers

I can ride a bike
24 August 2022

As a child, I never learned how to ride a bike. It wasn’t my parents’ fault—they tried. I have snap-shot memories of my father lightly holding onto the handlebars of my white-and-pink bike, jogging alongside my crooked path until I was, to my surprise, riding all by myself. At 7 years old, I was well on my way to full two-wheeler independence when, at an extremely low speed, I collided with the side of a parked minivan. My hands stung, but that was nothing compared to the embarrassment I felt: Not only did I run into a parked car, there was a family taking out groceries on the other side of the sliding door. The mix of pain and humiliation was too much. So I decided to wait a decade, and just learn how to drive instead.

Truthfully, I was comfortable with my lame-but-amusing bike fail. There was nothing about my life that appeared to be diminished by not knowing how to ride: Living in New York City, I could get anywhere I wanted by subway, taxi, or on foot. Except for the off chance of going for a Citi Bike ride with Leo, I didn’t really think I was missing much. This fall, however, my boyfriend Bryan and I had planned a trip to Copenhagen. And after reading that the city was really best seen by bike, suddenly, I couldn’t shake the image of us pedaling among a sea of happy and well-dressed Danes. So I decided, at 28, to challenge my childhood fear and learn, once and for all, how to ride a bike.