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The Day I Learned To Ride My Bicycle

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The Day I Learned To Ride My Bicycle
Eng. 121 Essay 1:Remembering The Day I Learned To Ride My Bicycle I must have been seven or eight years old when I rode my first bicycle, and the day I learned to ride my bike is very memorable to me. It was a bright warm afternoon and the perfect summer day; school vacation time, kids playing, sun shining, birds chirping. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the afternoon. The kids in my neighborhood were running around playing fun games. I was in my back yard with my two sisters and my little brother. We were playing tag when my dad pulled into the driveway in his pickup truck with a bicycle in the back. I can clearly recall it. My dad must have picked it up at a garage sale. It was an old, rusty bicycle with some yellow and white paint on it that was covered with some of those really cute metallic glittery stickers to cover the paint that was coming off. I didn't care what the bicycle looked like. I was more excited to do something with my dad. Learning to ride my bike would mean a bond with my dad and a challenge for myself. If I learned, I knew it would make him proud.

The feeling of learning to do something for the first time was a bit frightening; especially having my dad as my riding instructor. Something good must have happened that day that I was not aware of, because my dad was in a good mood. Usually my father was very impatient and demanding so it was surprising to have him want to teach me to ride my bike for the first time. I didn't care to look for reasons. My dad jumped out of his truck and reached to get the bicycle that was sitting on the back. We saw him lift it by the bars and head toward us, we stopped playing; we stood quietly waiting for him to approach us.

"Who is that bike for?" we asked, eager to know.

"It's for Daisy. This is her turn to learn," he said to us; setting the bike on the grass. As he told us that, my siblings returned to their tag game. My sisters had learned to ride a bicycle the previous summer, although my dad introduced the tricycle to them before they learned to ride a bike. My brother was still too young to learn, so I was the only one left to learn for now. I had never even ridden a tricycle before and that worried me. I followed my dad as he walked towards the open yard. He took a red rag out of his back pocket and began wiping the seat and the handles of the bicycle to dust it off. I had not even touched the bicycle yet already felt butterflies in my stomach. A very weird feeling invaded me. I was excited, but I was also so afraid to learn to ride that bicycle. The fear I felt was so powerful, that I felt sick to my stomach.

"Common Dais, let's begin your lessons" said my dad with a smile.

"Daddy, couldn't we leave this for tomorrow?" I asked in a shaky voice.

"Hun, the sooner the better. Let's get to it," replied my dad with an encouraging tone.

"Now listen closely Daisy. I want you to sit on the bike and put your feet on the pedals O.K.?" My dad said seriously. "Nothing to worry about Daisy, I'll be right behind you. I'll be holding the seat right underneath while supporting your back," said my dad.

"O.K. daddy. Please don't let go. I beg you daddy, don't let go. I'm very afraid. I don't want to fall and hurt myself," I said in a trembling and fearful voice.

Slowly climbing on the bike and holding the handle very firmly, I could feel the sweat on my clammy hands. Many thoughts rushed through my mind, which made me want to cry. Riding a bicycle was not as easy as it seemed. When I watched my sisters ride their bikes, I always thought it looked like a peace of cake. Now I regretted laughing at them when they fell down.

My dad and I continued with my riding lessons. I was pleased to perceive his patience. He was probably a bit frustrated because I couldn't keep my balance for even five seconds, but he hid that very well. I felt a bit more comfortable. My heart had stopped racing and the sweatiness in my hands had decreased. Everything around me seemed to be moving in slow motion. My brother and sisters were enjoying themselves playing. I glanced at them to see if they were watching, but they didn't even acknowledge me. They were chasing each other with great laughter. I, on the other hand, was suffering and having no fun. My dad kept pushing me firmly on my back with his left hand while holding underneath the seat with his right hand. We were going around our yard in circles for a couple minutes, and I already felt tired.

"O.k. Daisy, we've had enough practice. I'm going to be right behind you but I will no longer support your back. I'll only be holding the seat slightly. You'll be doing most of the work now O.k.?" I was insecure. But I wanted to try. I just wanted to get all this over with as soon as possible. I had one foot on the upper pedal and as I pushed it forward strongly, I quickly placed my other foot on the lower pedal. I struggled so hard to keep my balance. It was difficult, but my dad's words kept humming in my head. He always told me not to give up no matter what, that persistence was the key to success. My father's words were my encouragement. I fell innumerable times. I hurt my knees, my elbows, and my head, nothing bad-aids and peroxide couldn't cure. There was nothing to lose. I knew I would learn to ride my bike. I just had to have patience and of course, persistence.

That afternoon was the longest in my life. I was tired, hurt, sweaty, and stinky! I was a mess! My dad had already let go of my seat and my back. I was finally riding my bike on my own. All I needed was balance and a little practice. But that was the easy part. I made it! I accomplished my goal. I had learned to ride my bike. I felt so good about that. Accomplishment is such a great feeling. The day I learned to ride my bicycle was worth the hard work in every way. Everyone in my family was very happy for me. My dad was a great instructor; he was very proud of me. Good and bad things happened that day, but I learned a lot. I experienced fear, persistence and accomplishment. Everything was well worth it, and I don't regret a thing about that wonderful day.

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