It makes it possible. Not easy. Not easy.
These are the words that often run through my head as I am riding. I have been riding my bike a lot lately. My bike. Our bike. We share it. I ride it. A lot.
A couple of months ago my husband got a call from his brother. Not at all unusual. He came to my room where I was writing in my journal and asked, “Do you think (our son) would like an electric bike?”
He wouldn’t. He doesn’t like bikes. He doesn’t much like being outside – if it is too hot, or too cold, or too ‘buggy,’ he doesn’t want to go at all. Plus he finds bikes uncomfortable. We might think it would be useful for him – since he doesn’t drive, and there is no bus service here, and we are surrounded by houses and farms (no stores or anything close to us.) We might think it would be good for him, but he wouldn’t.
“No, he doesn’t like bikes,” I answered, “He thinks they’re uncomfortable.”
“I would like an electric bike, though,” I told him.
He talked with his brother some more, and a few weeks later, we had an electric bike. Since my husband’s nephew works as a director for the company in Canada, and two of my husband’s brothers also bought e-bikes at the same time, we got an amazing deal.
Still I felt guilty. When someone buys me something, I always feel guilty. It comes from my childhood. It comes from trauma. Plus I worried that I wouldn’t use it enough, or was spending too much (I don’t work, after all) or like most of my decisions, it would be a bad choice.
And then the bike arrived, and my husband rode it home from his brother’s house.
As another brother (my husband has lots of brothers!) drove in with our van (that we bought off him 10 years ago – though I guess that’s not important to the story) and visited with me while we waited, I understood that my husband wanted the bike, too.
In fact, by the words of the people he knows that have talked to me about the bike, it sounds like we got the bike for him. I am okay with that. It removes some of the guilt of having the bike bought for me. We did get a great discount – but it is still an e-bike, and still wasn’t cheap.
Anyway, he works 4 days a week, and is too tired most of the time when he isn’t working to want to ride. At the point of this writing, he has gone about 35km, and I have gone more than 420km!
The thing is, where we live in British Columbia, Canada, every direction has hills. Steep hills. So since moving here, riding has been pretty much impossible for me. Other people might be able to do the hills. I have too many barriers. It didn’t matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do them. I couldn’t.
And then we got the e-bike. And then I started to ride. And unlike driving a car, I found that riding a bike calms me – even if it is technically more dangerous. I also understood (though I have lived in this house more than 14 years) that half a kilometre away from me are rural properties – for a long ways. I love riding by the farms, and seeing the animals and trees and land. I love that I can ride, and hardly any vehicles come past me. I love it!
So I ride. Day after day. First 5km a day, then 10. Then one day I decided to ride to the beach 5km away. It is a short drive, but I never drive it, so I didn’t really know what to expect. Half the way there, I started saying, “uh-oh!” It was all downhill. So steep downhill that I pretty much had to ride the brake. I didn’t know – and now I would have to ride back up.
On the way home, I honestly thought I would die. My chest hurt so bad, and I couldn’t breathe. I prayed the whole time to be kept alive for the sake of ‘my girls’ (my dogs) and my son. When I got home I told my son I wouldn’t likely do that trip often.
Two days later, I did the trip again. Three days after that I did the trip again. By the fourth trip, I didn’t feel it was enough, and (after getting back up that hill) I took a detour to make the trip longer. I now ride about 15km each day – and I seek out the hills.
But the hills??? They aren’t easy. Not even on an electric bike. It doesn’t make it easy, but it does make it possible.
And as I was considering this thought again, I started comparing it to accommodations, supports, and income assistance for people with disabilities – and I think these are pretty much the same thing (or at least that should be the goal of them.) They don’t make life easier than other people have it. But they should make living with a life quality similar to others without disabilities possible.
Not easy. Possible.