You never forget how much it hurts to ride a bike

On the first day of our vacation in the Outerbanks, Lauren and I rented bicycles with the intention of riding them around a few times during the week. I know they say you never forget how to ride a bike, and I certainly didn’t forget, but man, I sure don’t remember it hurting so much. We weren’t a quarter mile away from the rental place before our legs started burning. I mean burning. It was a five-mile ride back to the house and by the end my heart was pounding and my legs were ready to give out. I couldn’t seem to stay on the seat very well and every time I slid down, it wedged the underwear up my butt a little bit further. I remembered that as a kid, whenever we’d ride our bikes and wanted to go faster, we’d stand up and peddle. I tried that for about two seconds, shouted, “Ah crap!” and sat back down. The burning in my quads multiplied thanks to that little stunt.

How did we do this as kids? I know that I was using muscles I don’t normally use and all, but geez, I don’t remember feeling that kind of pain the first time I rode a bike—I mean, you know, other than the pain of my skull slamming against the concrete when I wiped out. If it had hurt like that the first few times, I don’t think any of us would have learned how to ride our bikes. Kids aren’t like adults. We don’t find amusement from painful activities.

Not surprisingly, even though Lauren and I had paid for a full week rental, that ended being our only bike ride.