There is something romantic about riding a bike. When I was a kid I imagined my prince charming (bata pa nga ako neto. Haha.) not on a horse, but on a bike with a basket of roses in front. When I grew older I fancied biking side by side with that special someone, holding hands while we ride into the sunset. While I do have a special someone now, and the sunset is always there unless it’s rainy season, this little fantasy remains as such because of one tiny problem -- I don’t know how to ride a bike.
It’s a skill everybody learns in childhood, apparently.
Me: Wah, Haggardo Versoza naman mag-bike. Saan ka ba natuto nito?
Bunso: Nung bata, sa mga kapitbahay.
Me: Bakit ako, hindi natuto?
Bunso: Wala ka kasing childhood.
Me: Ano bang ginawa ko nung bata tayo?
Bunso: Uhm, nagbasa? Hahaha.
I asked my younger sister to teach me and we rented a bike at QMC at Php80 per hour. Natuto naman ako after 15 minutes, innumerable bumps into trees and other bikers, a bruised wrist (because I tried to avoid crashing into a tree with my hand instead of the handbrakes), and a three-inch abrasion in my right leg.
|Bunso showing me how it’s done.|
The other day I decided to level up. My uncle and his biker friends came to visit (they biked from Bulacan to Pangasinan. Hardcore!) and I fiddled with their big bikes and got a fresh batch of cuts and lesions in my lower limbs. Bakit ba kasi hindi ako naging long-legged e.
I asked my mom to take a picture of me.
Mumi: Parang Pia Cayetano lang a.
Me: Ay mother. Pordat kakandidato na akong senador. Bwahaha.