I was looking at old family photos and suddenly remembered when I first had the realization that cycling was joy and work. I was 12 years old and my father had just turned over a new single speed, red, coaster brake bike that I had earned by helping him assemble "swing sets" for a store owner who sold outdoor furniture. I worked the entire spring and summer with him. (As a side note, it also gave me a new level of appreciation of his commitment to put food on the table and a roof over our heads; he was holding down three part-time jobs and doing this to pay the bills.)

On my first ride, I eagerly tore down the alley behind our house. I hit the coaster bakes too hard when I approached the first cross street. This caused me to swerve and hit a utility pole with a reflector on in. The reflector shattered and caused a flat front tire. Less than 10 minutes and I had my first flat and accident. When I walked the bike back home my father was standing there waiting. He simply said, "Now it's time for you to learn how to change a flat tire." He gave verbal directions, but never offered any physical help. It took me well over an hour to change that tire, but the whole time all I could think about was the thrill of the speed and freedom that first ride gave me.

SO, what about you? When did you first recognize that cycling was a combination of joy and work?