Cycling: Cheaper Than Therapy
By Kit Fruscione
A favorite childhood memory I have is my dad teaching me to ride a bike.
I can still to this day visualize him running behind me in his plaid Bermuda shorts, holding onto the back of the sparkly blue banana seat of my Schwinn bike. My skinny little legs pushing the pedals faster and faster until he let go and then, it was if I was flying! I was riding a bike!
The feeling I had that warm, sunny summer evening as I coasted down our neighborhood sidewalk was disbelief and utter joy. I was as doing it! All on my own!
My balance kept me upright. My pedals propelled me further and further away from the safety of my dad. He surely must have held his breath as he watched me speed away from him, unsupported. That day, back in 1969, on Norwood Avenue in Niagara Falls, a cyclist was born.
Into my teen and adult years my bike became my escape, bolsterer of self-esteem and never-faltering best friend. It was always there for me during times of sadness, loneliness, happiness or stress. Never asking me any questions, no judgments, just a silent partner, provider of release and distraction.
Cycling had witnessed breakups, work stress, loss of a loved one, falling in love and landing new jobs. It was during these times it became a beacon in the storm of life whether good times or bad. Each revolution of the pedals taught me acceptance or thrust me forward, toward change.
As the years rolled on, I used cycling as a form of competition, mental health and adventure. Participating in local races and bike tours throughout the country and world, my bike continued to provide me with experiences of awe.
Riding across the country during the summers of 2010 to 2011 was a definite highlight. My cross-country tour began in Anacortes, Washington, and continued across the northern tier route, to Bar Harbor, Maine. Those 4,200 miles was without doubt one of my biggest accomplishments. Talk about a shot to the arm of heightened self confidence. I was over the moon as I rode into Bar Harbor that rainy July day, completing those thousands of miles. Making it more incredibly amazing was, I rode all that distance with a group of women on a guided tour over the course of those two summers. Summer of 2010, we rode from Washington state to North Dakota, and then summer of 2011 we went the final leg, North Dakota to Maine. The way this tour was split up was perfect because teaching allowed me to have my summers free.
As time went on, touring in Europe became my new quest. Italy, France, Spain, Scotland, Ireland and beyond. Each country had its own different type of beauty. Riding through the hills and peaceful countrysides of these unique places has made me forever grateful for this simplistic two-wheel invention, the bike. One of the best T-shirts I have ever owned was, “Cycling: Cheaper Than Therapy.” And it was true as I found out when my anxiety and ADHD took off at a reckless and high rate of speed. Again, cycling was there as my patient, constant teacher, pacing me and maneuvering me through the turbulence and obstacles that I learned was to become a part of life.
Cycling is something you can do into your 80s, as I have seen friends do. That can give us all hope in staying active. Having a form of movement that is not only a provider of health but can be a piece of the fabric of our happiness is something worthy for us all to pursue. Now, ready to enter a new decade in life, with 60 years of age knocking at my door, I am willing to answer it. Knowing I will have my forever best friend, my bike there beside me, always waiting to show me the way.