Never Say Never
It’s like riding a bike. Once you learn how to do something, you never forget it.
It was a Sunday afternoon when it happened.
I had just dropped off my books at the public library in Copley Square, and standing outside those doors in the warm summer breeze I found myself in a conundrum. I wanted to go to my favorite craft store in Cambridge, but I was without one very important item that would get me there: my Charlie card. I had left it home on my way to the library and didn’t realize it until it was too late. So how was I going to get there without the embarrassment and awkwardness of appealing to the bus driver and having no way of getting on the train?
Then I looked to my right and saw it. The Blue Bike station. I shook my head. Uh uh, no way, I thought firmly. Mind you; I had sworn up and down that I would never, ever, ride a bike in Boston. From the time I first set foot in this city as a freshman in college, to moving back here four months ago. I was adamant, believing that nothing in the world–unless the situation would arise in times of desperate need–could possibly change my mind.
As luck would have it, the situation indeed arose. So there I was, changing my mind. Reconsidering. Then, eventually, doing it.
So, it’s come down to this, huh? I thought to myself as I walked over and examined the checkout machine. A few minutes later, I had made an account, punched in the code to unlock a bike, and was loading the basket with all that I had brought with me. The whole time my heart was beating rapidly. I was terrified. I hadn’t ridden a bike in over 20 years, and now I was about to casually hop on one riding alongside traffic for the first time! I mean, who does that?! Me, apparently.
After checking my brakes, adjusting my seat and reorienting myself, I was ready to give it a try. The first few attempts were…laughable, to say the least. I would balance for a few seconds before toppling over on one foot. I felt like a toddler all over again, except this time there were no training wheels and dad wasn’t holding me steady.
It was frustrating. But I was determined. So I kept trying.
“Okay, c’mon legs, work with me here,” I said to myself as I tried to pedal again. One push, then another push. Then another…another…until finally, I got it! I found my rhythm (and my confidence) and was on my way to Cambridge.
Victory!
But it was more than that. The empowerment I felt taking myself to the store and home afterward was the icing on the cake of the real lesson of that day: never say never.
Cliche, I know, but so true especially in that moment. A whole new world opened up to me just from that one small act of temporary negligence. Imagine if I got stuck in my ways and settled for calling an Uber back and forth. It would’ve been possible, but it would have cost more money. Most importantly, I would’ve missed out on experiencing a new side of the city I call home. I would’ve missed the music in my AirPods, setting the scene of what turned out to be a gloriously peaceful ride with an unforgettable view of the skyline. I had never felt more Bostonian in my life!
Did I probably annoy a few drivers the whole way? Absolutely. Am I claiming to be a biker now? Absolutely not. But now, the next time I try something new, I can look back on this memory and smile. I did something that scared me, and I loved it.
