This week, I saw a post on Linkedin about career lessons from running and how hobbies can be a catalyst for learning new skills.

And it was an AHA moment because it was just what I was thinking the other day when, as a grown-up 34-year-old woman, I fell from my bike in a parking lot close to my home.

So, in this post, I would like to share my experience of learning to ride a bike as an adult and the lessons I learned from it. Lessons that I applied in the past and I am currently still applying in my career journey.

Just a bit of background on my experience, after seven years of working as a QA Engineer, I did a role change to a java developer. Three years later, I took another challenge when I got promoted to Lead Engineer.

If I do a survey right now asking how many people know how to ride a bike, probably the majority of you will say yes. It is something you learned as kids, it is easy for you. I live in Barcelona, and one of the main ways of moving around the city is by bike. It is a practical and beautiful city to ride, convenient and cheap. And believe me, each time someone was asking me why am I not taking the bike, I was experiencing internal torture, something between shame and irritation when I had to recognize I was not able to ride a bike. The surprised and amused look on their face was killing me.

So one day, I decided it was time to learn. Here are some valuable lessons I took from it:

1. It can be damn scary to start a new thing, especially as an adult.

As kids, we throw ourselves into learning new things and expose ourselves without thinking about the danger. As an adult, I would overthink and imagine all the bad things that could happen: I would fall and I will stupidly harm myself. I would go on imagining ALL the consequences that could come with this (I already have enough problems to complain about, do I need to add a broken leg and arm to that?!).

Does a career change or learning something completely new feel similar? Starting from 0, being faced with the possibility of failure, having the impression everyone else around you has it all figured out, and you are the weird one for not knowing.

My experience riding a bike taught me that yes, you might fall off. And it will hurt.

But not as bad as you imagined. And you’ll recover way faster than you thought. And yes, you will complain about it. The most important is to continue doing it and not stop. Because once you let fear guide you, for any other new experiences you will want to try in the future, you will remember this fall and the fear.

2. The beginning is hard, but it always gets better. It is essential to be patient and kind to yourself.

And it gets better without even realizing it. On the first day, it was hard even to maintain balance. My arms were hurting from all the tension I was putting in. I thought something was wrong with me: Why can’t I do something that comes naturally for so many people? But each time, what was very hard became just hard, and then it became easy. And I was moving to the next level without even realizing it. Day by day, I was getting more confident and more proud of myself.

3. You should not care about others’ opinions and focus just on your learning.

It is hard not to feel the shame of not knowing something. While learning, I have fallen several times: I rode the bike into a tree and had strangers laughing at me because I could not manage to get the balance to start. I fell in front of a long line of cabs and wished the ground would swallow me up.

I am still nervous when I have to do it around people. But at some point, a friend asked me: Why do you care so much about what some strangers think? Just focus on yourself and block everything else. And I did so. And I stopped caring if some guy at a light stop was looking at me just because I needed another minute to get the balance.

Just ask people moving into new positions or that are starting something new. We all had imposter syndrome. The embarrassment of not knowing, wondering about what others think of us, the fear of mocking. But people who care about you and understand what you are trying to achieve will support you, cheer for each of your achievements, and ride with you. Focus on your journey, not the negative people around you that may laugh at you. It takes courage to not care about what others think and wisdom to know it is just a matter of time.

4. Ask for help and accept the help you are receiving.

Everything seems more simple when you have someone with you. Even though they are not riding the same bike, knowing that you have them there can offer you a psychological safety net and can motivate you. Or they can just laugh with you. They can give you advice and can see your evolution. They can give you another perspective on how things are going. When you will feel like giving up, they will be there to cheer you up. And most important, they will celebrate with you and see your accomplishments.

5. Progress is not a linear.

I have started not once but three times this process of learning to ride a bike. And each time I thought I was starting from zero, I was not. My body remembered what my fears didn’t. And each time, I had a different objective: the first was to ride some meters without falling. The second was to ride a bike to my office. The third was to try a more complicated road or bike. What is true is that no matter how many times you start over or how much time has passed since you’ve tried, you need to have the patience and consistency to get used to and be comfortable with something new.

I am still learning, I am not a professional, but I can now say: Yes, I know how to ride a bike. As with any other process in our career or personal development, it takes time, dedication, and going out of your comfort zone a bit more every time to progress. And it is not about being perfect, but about the benefits of learning something new.

And I hope that when the time comes to take the next step in my career or to start that thing I always wanted to do, the experience of learning new hobbies has trained me to have more courage. And to remember the great satisfaction you get with the sense of accomplishment.