The idea that once one learns to ride a bike they never forget is one I chose to put to the test this year. In an attempt to see if I could learn to do something that might allow my husband and I to enjoy something new together, I tried out mountain biking. Over the past eight months, I have learned that motherhood and mountain biking are actually quite similar. Allow me to encourage you today with some connections I’ve made during my hours in the saddle.
1. It doesn’t always come naturally.
Motherhood and mountain biking: neither is mastered overnight.
Confession: I truly disliked being a mom of newborns.
The whole “you’ll just leak love out of your pores the instant they’re born” thing did not happen to me. I was mostly terrified of not being able to take adequate care of these precious, breakable little ones.
As I re-learned how to get on and stay on a bike this year, I thought a bit about how difficult those early years were with the kids. Being terrified of falling off the bike reminded me of how terrified I felt every time our babies were sick. Having my foot slip off the pedals mid-stroke reminded me of what it was like to encounter sleepless nights, teething, and temper tantrums. Working to figure out how to adjust my gears made me think about all the sleep strategies we read about, researched, and tried out of total desperation.
I’m happy to say I’ve figured some things out on the bike over the last eight months. I no longer struggle to get on and off the saddle. I can adjust my gears almost without thinking. My feet rarely slip off the pedals anymore. But is it still hard? YES.
If you’re a new mom and wondering if you’ll ever be a confident mom, I’m here to tell you that you absolutely will.
2. It doesn’t get easier, but you will get “faster.”
That feeling of grinding up a hill on a bike slower than one could walk sure feels a lot like toddler years to me.
The constant questioning:
“Why aren’t they potty trained yet?”
“When are they going to be able to talk?”
“Can’t they walk yet?”
“Why won’t they eat anything I serve them?”
Every revolution of the bike wheel feels like an eternity, not unlike long days with little ones. But every revolution gets you closer to the top of the hill. And every book read, bath given, meal lived through, and lesson taught grows your little one.
And you grow too.
Soon enough, you’ll be whipping through meals, getting them dressed in record time, recognizing familiar illnesses, and knowing what to do about them. You’re becoming an expert on your own kid! This leads me to my next idea . . .
3. Don’t compare.
It’s easy to get caught in the comparison trap both in motherhood and mountain biking.
I am, without a doubt, the slowest cyclist I know. I’m actually afraid of gaining speed downhill, so I intentionally keep myself from going fast. Also, I am still learning how to navigate rocky sections of trails. Yes, people have to wait for me. Yes, that used to bother me. But not anymore.
My friend who truly is an expert cyclist gave me this great one-liner: “Just ride YOUR ride.” When I’m too wrapped up in how I think I should be riding because of the way someone ELSE is riding (faster, more fearless, more skilled), the fun of the ride goes completely out the window and I find myself feeling anxious the entire time, killing myself to keep up.
Don’t you think motherhood is similar?
Someone else is always doing it differently from you. They do feeding, training, sleeping, disciplining, and a whole host of other things in ways you’ve never even known about, don’t like, or that don’t work for you. Someone else’s kid sleeps better than yours. Those other kids are so much better behaved than yours. Someone else parents with confidence you only wish you had. That’s fine. This is YOUR life, YOUR kids, YOUR family. Take the tips that work, throw out what doesn’t, and don’t worry about where someone else is in their journey.
This is your journey . . . your ride. Your kids will be grown before you know it. If you allow the comparison trap to steal the joy of the ride, you’ll miss out on so much.
4. Don’t ride alone.
Neither motherhood nor mountain biking should be attempted alone.
This is my amazing friend, Nancy. She’s been riding bikes for years yet still remembers what it was like to be a beginner.
Nancy taught me how to get on and off my bike again. She patiently talked me through (AND validated) my fears. This seasoned rider took me on trails that she knew I could handle because she knows them like the back of her hand.
Nancy made me feel like I could do this. Like there’s a place for risk-averse ME in the world of mountain biking.
And here is my amazing mom, Rosemary.
She’s been a mom for years yet remembers what it was like to be a beginner. She taught me how to be a mother.
When I had trouble with literally every aspect of newborn life, she patiently talked me through (and validated!) my fears. She helped me laugh through the difficult toddler years. My mom encouraged me to trust my judgment as a parent. She helped me put the really hard days in perspective.
My mom continues to make me feel as though worried, over-analytical ME can be a confident mom with my own kids.
And let’s face it . . . no matter how introverted we may be, life is more fun when shared with others who understand us. And though we may be worried about sharing our journeys with others because they will inevitably see our faults and failings, they will surely share theirs. Their grace gives us permission to be flawed humans. After all, they are too. You’ll find such encouragement in sharing the victories AND failings of motherhood together. I know I have.
I hope you find your Nancy/Rosemary!
5. Enjoy the ride!
Motherhood and mountain biking are risky. They are physically demanding. And sometimes, we bonk.
One essential skill in mountain biking is to look ahead instead of down. When we look down on a bike, we don’t give our brains the time they need to adjust to what’s coming up ahead. We also tend to lose balance because we weren’t made to move with our heads pointed down! When fear grips me on the bike, I tend to look down. Here’s one consequence I experienced doing this very thing:
In motherhood, I think that “looking down” describes those times when we are hyper-focused on our perceived failures and overcome with mom guilt. We all do it from time to time, and our “wrecks” can sure be nasty.
But we don’t have to live there. Anytime we want, we can pick up our gaze and look ahead. There is no perfect mountain biker, and there is no perfect mother. And there is SO much ahead, and so much beauty in the journey. Are we willing to look up to see it?
My kids are tweens and teens now, and I wish I’d spent more of their little years looking expectantly, joyfully ahead instead of lamenting all the “lost ground” underneath me. I’m working on doing so now, knowing that I won’t ever do it perfectly. I am here to tell you that mountain biking and mothering are both SO much more enjoyable when you look up!
One Last Thing . . .
I truly hope that you’ll allow yourself to settle confidently into your role as a mother today. Whether your kids are 2 or 52, I genuinely hope that you feel a tight hug from me, your fellow “rider.” Our journeys may look different, and we may employ different skills along the way, but my hope is that we will look back and say with a smile, “Wow! What a ride!”
If you’re struggling to find your place in the world of motherhood, please check out this fabulous post about finding contentment in motherhood. We’re on this road together, my friend.
The opinions expressed in this post are those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of ABQ Mom, its executive team, other contributors to the site, its sponsors or partners, or any organizations the aforementioned might be affiliated with.
