The First Time

It was a Saturday, I remember because it was to become a pivotal moment in my life. One to be savoured and laid down as a ‘Forever’ memory. I was eight years old, and it was the first time that I’d experienced achievement. The feeling of strength and power that ran through my body as I reached my goal was intoxicating. I felt invincible and remember it vividly as if it were yesterday.

My tatty black bike was far too big for me. And because it used to belong to my brother, it had a crossbar, so my first challenge was simply to get on it. Stradling the cross bar, I could just touch the ground with the tip of my left toe, with my right leg waving about, desperately trying to find the pedal.

I don’t like to give up, but it was precarious as the bike kept falling over even before I had chance to ride it. And ride it I would, my determination was steadfast, with the injuries to prove it. I had huge grazes on my elbows, with great yellow and purple bruises where I kept hitting my hips on the unforgiving concrete when I tumbled. Injuries which would cause my Mum to raise her eyebrows, a terrifying prospect which I put to the back of my mind.

Then I had a bit of luck. “Maisie, Maisie. Would you like some help?” It was Bryan, my friend’s dad from across the road. “We’ll go to the park. Falling on grass will be less painful for you.” His offer came just at the right moment.

Before your eyebrows raise, like my Mum’s, this was the 60s. The kids played in the streets all day with little supervision, unlike the poor souls of today who are watched over morning, noon, and night. We were free, different times and this was one of the good bits, although many other bits weren’t quite so good.

Bryan held the bike, whilst I steadied myself on the saddle, right foot poised on the pedal to push. “OK, get ready, I’ll support you for the first 20 yards then you’re on your own.”

Off we went and I wobbled and weaved and managed a further 10 yards before I fell off. The ground was softer to land on, but the long grass made peddling harder. This continued for countless more times until Bryan had a brainwave.

“Try going round in a long, left hand circle, as that’s the way you tend to fall,” he suggested. So that’s exactly what I did, and I was off, wind in my face, peddling for all I was worth - it worked. Round and round I went, shrieking at the top of my voice, I never wanted to stop.

That moment inspired me to ride. I become an Individual Pursuit, Olympic champion. I still go to the Velodrome today with my friend who coaches at weekends, but I don't go there on a Saturday.

© Jonathan Wainwright