A week away, the ecstasy faded, and the anxiety crept in: I started to think about the worst that could happen: what if I fell behind? I got in the way of myself, which seems to be a recurring pattern. When something gets closer and closer, I doubt myself. I started to think, when was the last time I biked, four years? The thought of falling behind and being alone was echoing in my head the whole week leading up to the trip. This thought overtook my excitement and I started to not want to go. The brochure came showing how much we were going to bike. EIGHTEEN MILES, my eyes widened, this number jumped off the page, into my head, and bounced around up to the trip. “Mom, I don't want to go, what if I forget how to ride a bike?” She laughed thinking about how this contradicted the saying that you never forget how to ride a bike. The day came when we were leaving for the trip. When we arrived, we had a day to do whatever we wanted before we started to bike. The day crept by as I stressed about tomorrow. The next day rolled around and we had to take a bus to the spot where we would start to bike. On the bus, I expressed my thoughts about falling behind and being alone. My friend reassured me saying that she wasn't going to leave me and we would stay together. This should have made me feel a little better, but I was still anxious. 

We arrived at the spot where we were going to start and everyone got their bikes and rode around waiting to start. I got mine and stood there watching. I could barely speak. The doubtful thoughts going through my head were overwhelming. I hear someone say, “It's time to start”. My heart was racing, my face was red, and my hands were shaking. Everyone started to follow the instructor and I had to get on the bike. I got on and followed. I was shaky at first but once I started to get going a smile spread across my face as I realized that the doubts that were holding me back before were false and I was going to be fine. My friend and I were at the back of the pack but we were still having fun. After eighteen miles of biking that day, I couldn’t wait for the next day.

 The following day when it was time to bike, there wasn't a thought in my mind about being behind, because I wouldn't be alone. Being in the front or keeping up with everyone didn't matter to me as it did before because no matter where I was going to have fun. After a week of biking, I was sad to leave. When we got home I asked my mom, “Can we go again next summer?”