Venting, or just self therapy...no food this time

OK, I have a buzz going and I will try and remember to use spell check, but I'm not promising I will remember. I'm just saying........

What a time I have been having. Mentally and physically. It's over the new motorcycle, it's over the cat, it's over my neck pain. Haha pain in the neck...but it's not funny really.

So, here is the background of the story that spans years.
Before I met Doug I had a little gold motorcycle that was just kick-ass fun. I bought it when I had scant little money to splurge on anything. Anything. I was working three jobs, all part time, in hopes of having enough money to afford a place of my own or a decent place to split rent with someone. So I bought this Suzuki from a girl without ever having had a lesson.

She gave me the basics, shifting, brakes, etc. and by the grace of Zeus I made it home and I was able to ride. I went to work and home. I went to work and bought groceries and then home again. No social life...but I did like riding my little bike.

Then I'm on the way home from a long double shift at a retail place called Chess King when a person (I'm trying to be politically correct but I'm so not PC) pulls away from the stop sign right in front of me. I hit the car, the driver's door, I go over the hood and roll and the forks of the bike are bent way beyond repair. Helmets are a good thing. Please wear one folks if you ever ride or are a passenger.

Following that accident I am not afraid to ride again...know why? Because it wasn't my fault. I sued and won. Because it wasn't my fault. How I wish I had gotten a bike again after I'd healed because I was not afraid to ride.

Fast Forward many years....... Tristan (my very amazing son) wants a motorcycle. He's 19, I'm now 102 and the maternal worry-gene goes into major overdrive. I am afraid he'll get hurt...oh, how I worried. Now I know how my father felt. Sorry Dad.

Now Doug's reoccurring bike fever has really asserted itself because there is a gorgeous Triumph Bonneville America parked out front, roaring out of the driveway on a regular basis. So he starts looking and lo and behold, we find a cool looking Harley Sportster needing a home. We bought it and Doug went riding around on his own for awhile. Then I get on the back and am having a BALL!

We rode that little vibrating Sportster out to Mississippi to visit family. After such a long trip we bought a bigger bike, the Road Glide. Now I am starting to want a bike. I watch other women bombing around on big and little bikes and feel like I may want to get my own.

Fast forward again........ I enroll in the motorcycle safety class. I wrote about that here, and that is where I hurt my leg. Know what else it hurt? My pride, and sorely damaged my illusion that I could hop on a bike and it would all come back. Confidence shattered....but I thought I'd get over it, especially as I had a Kawasaki Vulcan 900, a beautiful bike of my own, just sitting and waiting for me to get my endorsement.

Like a child outside WalMart on the coin operated rides, I would sit on that bike before and after the class, gripping the throttle and imagining myself riding down the country roads.

A few days after the class my leg was healing but I developed a neck pain. It felt like a vise, like Gollum's boney fingers were gripping the base of my skull and pressing. I went to the doctor again. He asked if I was under stress. By then I knew Hextall had been killed. I was also afraid my bike was to big for me, never having ridden it, I harbored that fear. Doctor said I could always get a smaller bike. True that.

So here was the conundrum....I have a pain in my neck because I was afraid to ride the Vulcan. But I couldn't know if that pain would go away if I could ride it. So, last Saturday Doug and Tristan went with me to a deserted parking lot so I could practice.

My mouth was as dry as cotton and my heart pounded. I didn't think I could do it and kept putting my feet down. The guys were very supportive and gave me pep talks, the one that my son gave was that a friend of his could ride. I will call her Malevolent-Force-of-Evil.

I said, "Yeah! If "Malevolent-Force-of-Evil" can ride (and she doesn't ride well) then I can!!"

I started the bike, I stated " I'm better than Malevolent-Force-of-Evil" and I took off. Shifting into first, then second, then taking a turn without looking (That's not good) then shifting too fast into third. Came to a stop at the stop sign. Waited. Probably waited too long. Then I tried to make the turn.

Guess what, I didn't give it enough throttle and then...the laws of physics took over and down the bike went. Almost on my bad leg. I was able to pull it free quickly. Now I was really feeling bad. The bike seemed huge. HUGE. I am meant to grow into it with practice.

So I don't know where I am right now. My neck is occasionally giving me fits and I know it's stress, and I know it's also a lack of confidence in myself. There is no problem with shifting or braking. I am completely at ease in the shifting department. Now turning...I don't know... and that has me baffled. I could turn in class....

I am at a point where I need to figure out if I am content to be towed or if I just need a smaller bike. My Dad would say - stay off bikes altogether. Of that I am sure. I don't know what I want right now...I guess it boils down to that and getting over that knock on my self confidence.

Tomorrow, I'll have a foodie post. Nigella's cookbooks are a familiar comfort.
For anyone who read this far, thanks for listening :-)