It's Just Like Riding a Bike (and that's not good)

I remember when I learned how to ride a bike without training wheels. My sister and I went to the church parking lot, where there was a slope we could roll our bikes down. When I didn't have to worry about the back-and-forth of pedaling, I learned the art of balancing on two wheels a lot faster. Then, eventually, I could pedal, too. The world was mine! I could fly! It was awesome.

Fast-forward 25 years. (And when did I get old enough to use that phrase?)

My bike-riding days weren't really all that long, for all I loved it. I can't remember getting on a bike in high school, though I might have. (I had a car and a driver's license!) I certainly didn't ride a bike in college (even though I didn't have a  car). Or since I got married. Not at all in probably 20 years, in fact.

Until last night.

There's good news and bad news.

Good news: you actually never do forget how to ride a bike. Good to know. I didn't fall, I didn't embarrass myself in front of my young-uns, and after a while, I was even able to make sharpish turns without slowing to an almost standstill.

Bad news: my 5-year-old can kick my butt at bike-riding. (Not that the seat of the bike needed any help, if you know what I mean.) While I could outpace him on a straight, flat surface, he was pulling wheelies, hopping over speed bumps, and zipping around corners with his dad and his two older brothers. He taught himself to ride without training wheels earlier this year by commandeering his brothers' bikes. Without a slope. Without major injury. Now the three of them are a sight to behold.

I would have taken pictures of their prowess if I could have let go of the handlebars long enough to fish my cell phone out of my pocket.

In church on Sunday, we had a lesson on talents. One of the topics was to the tune of "use it or lose it." Now, as I mentioned, I haven't lost the basic knowledge of how to ride a bike. But I sure have lost a lot of the finer points of the sport.

Wouldn't it be tragic if this happened to my writing talent? What if I went 20 years without writing? Or two? I could probably put a sentence together, and I might even be able to power through a few paragraphs, but I doubt I'd remember not to dangle my participles (whatever that is). I'd probably find that ever bad habit I've pounded out of myself was back in force--and I probably wouldn't even notice.

Today, I have a physical manifestation of the pain that can come from trying to resume an old hobby. I can only imagine how it would hurt to try to resume writing.

If I keep bike riding (and get a more comfy-er seat), I'll probably get better and better at it. Same goes for every talent.

Another take-away from church on Sunday:

"That which we persist in doing becomes easier for us to do; not that the nature of the thing is changed, but that our power to do is increased." Heber J. Grant

So which talents have you let slide? Have you ever tried to get one back that you used to have? Did your backside hurt the next day?