It’s here! Sitting in my living room downstairs is my very own PINK running frame ack to watch Matt and Simon put the finishing touches on the frame before giving it a test run and taking it home. Here are a few pics…
On our way home, in the torrential but all too polite rain that only possible on an English motorway, Lina was excited whereas I was overwhelmed. Very overwhelmed. It’s a new piece of equipment and there is so little on the internet about how to use a running frame. I don’t know anything about bikes, and I just spent a lot of money on something I haven't got a clue to use.
I’ve wanted a pink bike ever since I was six years old. I would look at the bikes in the shops and wish that there was one for sale that could somehow magical stay upright (after all, that’s how all bikes stay up correct? By Magic?), go where I wanted it to go, and be powered by my own strength. Like so many other experiences in my adult life, this was born out of a promise I made to myself when I was a little girl. A promise I finally made good on years later.
Having big dreams and no clue how the achieve them is something I’m used to, but still it is scary. when I had dreams of becoming at actor, I had no idea how to get there, but life guided the way. Like any achievement, you can’t look at the top of the mountain all the time, do have to keep your focus on what’s directly in front of you. If you take it one day at a time, there’s no telling where you’ll end up or how fast you’ll get there.
For the next few days, the running frame will sit in my downstairs living room with the break on as I master getting on and off it over and over again. When you have a disability, nothing is as simple as just tying a pair of shoes and just going. You have to take it in steps and repeat the little things over and over before you can even mount your equipment. That’’s one of the secrets people forget about life with a disability. It’s one of the things I wish people knew.