Stabilisers

The above phtograph was taken in the Summertime in the halcyon days of the early nineties, on a family holiday near Bristol. That little blonde-haired boy, excitedly racing aroud a beautifully tranquil old farmhouse, is me!

It was a momentus occasion. It was the first time I was able to ride a bicycle without stabilisers.

I spent months and months at home, trying to master the art of balancing on two wheels. Standing on one leg is something I have always found really tricky, so learning to be on two wheels was also going to be a challenge. I was a couple of years behind my peers, in managing to achieve this feat, but nevertheless, I did it! All the other kids in the street where we lived managed to ride a bike without stabilisers, so my determination to succeed was loosely based on their success.

Determination to overcome a skill or challenge was inherited in me from an early age. I remember feeling so determined to ride without stabilisers. I fell off my bike so many times while I was practising. The family holiday and the long afternoons in the sun gave me enough dedicated time to concentrate and master the skill. My Dad then hooked off the stabilisers, and it was suddenly my balance versus me.

Staying upright was my biggest challenge. On many occasions my Dad ran behind me, clutching the back of my seat to hold me steady. I started again and again, not quite holding it together, and falling to one side. It was practise, practise, practise.

Then it clicked. Suddenly, just like the previous twenty or thirty times, I got on the saddle, gripped the handlebars, leant forward and turned the pedals. I teetered along slowly. With much trepidation I waited for the moment that Dad would stop running and set me free. Cautiously I pressed the pedals. A couple of rotations of my feet and I then realised my Dad was ten yards behind me. I was doing it. Alone. I recall a lot of wobbling, and a lot of "whoahing", but I WAS CYCLING!

You couldn't stop me after that!

It's funny, because I also remember clearly the day I passed my driving test. The woman who was carrying out the test, turning around to me and saying "well, Richard, I'm very pleased to say that you've passed!" This was followed by a photograph of myself next to my instructors car with the biggest grin on my face imaginable.

I remember the moment I learnt to do ten football keepy-uppys non-stop. Again, all my friends at school and the team I played football with on Sunday mornings could do hundreds. I was in our back garden when I managed ten. I punched the air in jubilation. My Mum, looking out at me enthusiastically from kitchen window, actually clapped!

I'm writing this, because those learning days aren't just fragments of my past. I continue to want to learn new skills, in my present and in my future. I remember the day in the photo above, the day I passed my driving test, or the day I managed to do ten keepy-uppys at football. Each little achievement was like scoring a goal.

Upon reminiscing about these moments, I realise that actually there's nothing stopping me from continuing to learn new skills.

Recently, I found myself searching "one handed trumpet players" the other day on Google. There's even a "one handed saxophone" that you can buy on a specialist music website, too! To master a musical instrument, and play something other than a kazoo, would be wonderful. (see other article about disability for reference to one handed ness)

Last year, I signed up to do an extra curricular course at my local college. It was one of the best things I could have done. For one evening a week I would go off and learn about a subject that I really was intrigued in. Being in a classroom environment, and actually wanting to be there, was a complete joy. I revelled in the subject (I chose an Introduction to Counselling course) and found myself picking up new skills, and wanting to know more.

I am looking to continue new learning when the new term begins in the Autumn, although at the moment I am unsure which subjects to pursue. I'm fascinated in all sorts of topics. I like having extra strings to my bow.

Ultimately, you see that determined seven year old in the picture above? I haven't really changed. I suppose I'm just a little bit of a bigger version.