The first time my parents watched me compete in a mountain bike race, they tried to get me to quit. While I was riding down a hill, I hit a huge rock, flew through the air and crashed to the ground. However, this kind of thing happens all the time. I just got up as fast as I could, got back on my bike and kept going. And I won that race, despite taking quite a spill!
My earliest bike memories are of my father taking me out for rides in the child seat on the back of his ten-speed. A couple years later, I got my first bike. But my parents wouldn't let me ride more than a few blocks from the house until I was ten. The morning of my tenth birthday, I got my older sister to take me on a long ride. We ended up at my aunt's house. I was totally exhausted and every muscle in my body ached. But I didn't care. I knew that this was only the beginning, and all I could think about was where my next trip would take me.
When I was in the eighth grade, our gym teacher, Mr. Raines, sent out a flyer about starting a mountain bike club. I ran to his office between classes and signed up. Over the next few months, the ten of us who joined the club worked on our biking skills. Besides taking us out riding, Mr. Raines taught us about bike safety, and showed us how to properly maintain and repair our bikes. He also helped us form a mountain bike team. At first, we competed against each other. Later, we went up against other schools. We continued to train and compete all through high school.
Biking has been the major focus of my life. Those early trips on the back of my father's bike got me started. The long rides with my sister increased my enthusiasm. Then, the training and competitions in the bike club guaranteed that I would turn into a lifelong bike fan. I think everyone should have a hobby like this－something that is good for them and makes them happy.
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