Personal Narrative: My First Bike
It was the summer of 2008, in Tampa, Florida, at my grandparents house, when I learned to ride my first bike. All summer I feel off my bike more times than I could count. Practicing everyday nonstop finally gave confidence to do it. This was exciting time for me, for my six year old self. I felt just as excited as a sixteen-year-old on their first day on the road.
School that day was super anxious, not thinking about anything else but riding in the wind. I could imagine myself speeding through the neighborhood, humid, dry wind in my hair. It was the first day I was gonna ride without my training wheels. All excitement was really to spill out of me like jelly beans out of a candy machine. But the terrifying thoughts were coming over like
School that day was super anxious, not thinking about anything else but riding in the wind. I could imagine myself speeding through the neighborhood, humid, dry wind in my hair. It was the first day I was gonna ride without my training wheels. All excitement was really to spill out of me like jelly beans out of a candy machine. But the terrifying thoughts were coming over like