A beginning has its rewards. Most beginners experience the rewards of seeing changes happen before their eyes when learning something new. The advanced beginner needs to recommit to learning and unlearn when the rate of change slows and the skill development grinds to a much slower pace.
I have been bike riding since March 2021, when the challenge of a reunion ride sparked me to resurrect bike riding. I didn’t think much about what it would take to ride a bike, but I certainly understood that I would need to train to complete a distance, let alone enjoy the ride. I knew that to do one; I had to do both.
My reunion ride was a challenge, but I completed it. I had the confidence to put ourselves above recreational riders but below avid on the active level for bike riding experiences. The pleasure of that accomplishment was heady enough for me to sign up for a bike camp later that fall—a lite version of the bike company’s avid camp. This lite bike camp was my reunion ride daily. I didn’t think much about what I had signed up for until I ran into knowledge on the steps of the Naval Academy Chapel.
Days before, I was to leave for my “lite” bike camp experience. I ran into my USNA classmate Mark on the chapel steps. Mark was going the next day for his bike adventure as an experienced biking guide and coach. On hearing what I was about to do and my doubts about making it up a 2,000-foot elevation on a bike, Mark recommended I consider using an electronic bike.
I promptly forgot about that conversation until I found myself walking my bike up the steepest sections of the mountain on Day One. I had no idea the mountain would be the first challenge. I felt like such a failure walking up that hill. Even walking up the mountain took most of what I had, and I wondered how in the world I would get through the next day.
On Day Two of our bike adventure, I was still shaken from trying to bike the mountain when the group turned towards a new segment that had elevation; I turned around and rode a flat bike trail with which I was familiar. While I rode a reasonable distance on my own, I felt again the fear of facing a challenge at which I was convinced I would fail. I didn’t want to get stuck on another hill.
Finally, on Day three, our bike guide echoed my classmates’ recommendations. Mary, why don’t you switch out to an e-bike? It felt like cheating, but I agreed. If you aren’t familiar with electronic bikes, the motor only engages when pedaling, and you can choose how much power you use. I felt liberated by the support and challenged myself only to use what power was needed to get me over any humps. What a difference that made mentally to know I could still complete the miles and not hold the other riders back. I had freedom of choice and support. It was a challenge by choice.
As an advanced beginner, I had to accept where I still needed support. I had to reconnect to the purpose behind my biking which was both for fun and fitness. And as a beginner, I experienced what all adventures do for any beginner to expert. No one likes the mountain while climbing, but it is fun and satisfying talking about the mountain on the other side.
Where do you have to learn to be a beginner again?
Great story, Mary! I have seen electric bikes and thought what a great alternative— if I ever biked! Your story makes me think of the challenges I face in aging and accepting some of the limitations that I have and learning how to adjust my expectations and enter into joy in this season. That’s a discipline!
Oh Lani, How I appreciate this! Thanks for sharing, and may we all enter each day with eyes to see the JOY of the Lord is our strength.
Lovely story Mary. When Glenn and I lived in San Francisco, with its 7 hills (have you noticed hilly cities always have to have seven! regardless of the number in reality!) we noted there were a LOT of e-bikes and various combo type bikes (not sure if they are all called e-bikes) in use. Better to bike with a little E than not at all! I appreciate your sharing that even a person I consider quite fit, had to overcome frustration and limitations.
My best “brand new” experience was with knitting. I’d been given a chance to learn the basics when I was about 6. We were in NH visiting Dad’s people, and Mom was taking a private lesson with an 80-something-year-old Finnish woman who made baby booties on 6 needles of 0000 size. To keep me busy, Mom cast on stitches and showed me how to do the basic Knit stitch. I loved it. Unfortunately despite Mom being an accomplished knitter, I never got to learn from her. (Note- if you are going to teach a wee one to knit, by all means, teach them how to cast on so they won’t have to pester you to stop and set them up again to practice more!)
Fast forward- Every few years of my adulthood I’d give in to the siren song of coats and Clark’s “teach yourself to knit” book in the craft store aisles and try again. I “got” the basic concept, at least of the knit stitch back at 6) but I’d quickly give up. WHY? Because It always felt like a struggle with no end in sight. My tension wouldn’t feel right, my fingers felt all akimbo, and mistakes would glare up at me. I probably never went past three days of trying before packing the tools away again.
Despite this, I had it in my head that when I had grandchildren I was going to knit them things like my mom had done.
Thanks to the wonder that was the modern DVD (and later streaming video) I could hit 15-second back bites to see over and over what I might have missed, and a grandbaby on the way. I decided this time, I was not going to be bested by sticks and string! So I dug out the tools for a few minutes a day- maybe up to 30 mins max (New reality- set a finite amount of time) I sat myself on the sofa every day, no matter what. And for several days up to a week and a half maybe, I saw little or no improvement in how it felt to do, or in how good the work looked. Until one day, when I sat down, and instead of having to consciously think how to wrap the wool around my fingers, how to hold the needles etc, I just picked up the work without thinking and started my knitting for the day. It took a few moments to realize, like Bill Murray in What About Bob, where he says with joy “I’m Sailing I’m Sailing” I was doing it, and it felt natural and looked pretty good as well.
From that point forward, not wanting to be dependent upon knitting stores for help as some friends had been, I decided I was going to embrace the journey, and that if I was to be an independent and advancing knitter, I’d need to learn how to undo or fix any mistakes, and how to have the type of patience developing the skill would take. I learned to see those times of having to rip out, as an opportunity for more practice- because I did want to knit well did I not? You can’t find knitting relaxing if you don’t at least accept some setbacks and some frustration. Having realized I may have some ADHD I find that the type of process knitting involves is very good for my overall wellbeing. Imagine trying to teach a little one who has ADHD…many would say they are the last children one might focus on, but I’m not convinced it isn’t a very good skill for them to try and learn, though there is a sweet spot for when they might best learn it.
Teaching myself how to knit was such a thrill. I realized one reason it was such a wonderful experience is because I was asking myself to be brand new at something. How often in our mid-forties are we brand new? We have a lot of that in childhood and teens and even early 20s, but we don’t tend to have much of it as we age. A lot of things probably came fairly easy to me as a child, and as a result, and perhaps also due to the era I grew up in, there wasn’t a lot of understanding about teaching children how to overcome frustration. My perfectionistic temperament had limited me in ways I didn’t realize. I wish I could have told my younger self this!
I loved this! I find it quite healing to tell my younger self all of my older self wisdom now. 🙂