There’s something truly special about friendships forged in the crucible of high school. Decades later, with many moons (and a few more wrinkles and gray hairs) behind us, my closest friends and I still make it a point to reconnect every five to ten years. These are friends who are all incredibly thin and fit, enjoying sport as if it’s FUN :). And then there’s me – someone who finds fun in things and has always considered exercise a byproduct of joy, not a pursuit in itself. This difference has only become more pronounced as we’ve all gotten older.

Park City Adventures and a Nervous Return to Two Wheels

Currently, we’re gathered in beautiful Park City, Utah, and it’s been a truly wonderful experience. As long-time friends, we share everything – our aches, pains, victories, and triumphs. It’s a sacred space to just be ourselves.

Yesterday, one of our friends had a brilliant idea: renting bikes to explore the many trails around here. Now, for those of you who follow me, you know I’ve been selling bicycles for heavy people for over 20 years. And yet, the thought of biking with my incredibly fit friends made me surprisingly nervous.

I don’t currently sell bikes to rental places, and my anxiety stemmed from a few places. First, finding a bike that fit my frame. Second, and this is a biggie, I hadn’t ridden a bicycle in six years! A knee replacement and some significant weight gain in previous years had left my knees sore and my balance off. For a while, my only “bike” was a tricycle.

But things have changed. Over the past few years, I’ve lost weight and feel significantly healthier. Armed with this new confidence, I called the bike shop, Jans. I explained my situation: “I’m very tall, very heavy, and I’d like an e-bike. I’m nervous about it, especially the tires – we all know that’s often a problem for heavier riders.” They reassured me, saying the tires would be fine and that they never had issues. Reluctantly, I reserved a bike.

The Ride Itself: Awkwardness, Aches, and Absolute Joy

We headed out yesterday, and I meant to take pictures of myself getting instructions, getting on and off the bike – all the moments that truly highlighted my awkwardness but also my genuine interest in what they were showing me. But I got so caught up in the moment that I forgot.

My friends, being the jocks they are, were ready to roll. One of them, Suzi, who skis in Park City every year, suggested we bike to a café not far from the trail. So, we set off. The ride itself was smooth, perfect, and absolutely amazing! The freedom, movement, and joy I felt were terrific. My knees were a little uncomfortable, and my butt was definitely protesting, but I just kept plugging along.

There’s something few people know about me: when I was 21, I was hit by a car while riding my bike, suffering a massive brain injury. It’s a miracle I recovered – I’m relatively sane, normal, and smart, all things considered. What I learned from that experience, among many other things, is that I do not ride with cars. I am incredibly careful about where I ride and strongly prefer bike paths.

So, when we got to the main roads on the way to the café, with trucks (lots of construction) and lots of cars, I was very uncomfortable. I was still a little wobbly after years off a bike, and the traffic amplified my anxiety.

We eventually made it to the café. It was great, super relaxing. I was a bit shaky, but that was okay; it was a learning experience. With these long-time friends, all of whom had supported each other through crushes, loves, hates, and all the hormonal changes of growing up, I felt secure despite my underlying anxiety.

The Uphill Struggle and a Lesson in Self-Acceptance

When it was time to leave, Suzi said, “Okay, we’re just going to follow this road for a little bit, and then we’ll get on the path.” We started riding, and I immediately realized we were on a slight uphill. I could not get on the damn bike. I’d push off with one foot, and the handlebars – and therefore the whole bike – would veer left and off the sidewalk. It was a mess. I was embarrassed. I didn’t want to be doing it, but there I was, stuck. I just started walking my bike.

After a while, I found a flat driveway that joined the sidewalk. “Okay,” I thought, “I can get on here.” One of my friends came back to check on me, offering to call the rental company to pick me up. “I don’t need that,” I insisted. Once I finally got going and started the ride home, I realized I was utterly exhausted. Eventually, we did call the rental shop. They picked me up, and they were so gracious and helpful, not at all shaming. The shame I felt was all mine.

I kept apologizing to my friends. Individually and collectively, they kept reassuring me, “Joan, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. We all have our stuff; we’re all getting older. We all have heartbreak and joy and pain and challenges.” Yet, the shame persisted.

I’m still working on that shame. I don’t like it, and I wish it wasn’t there. But the reality is, I am a product of our society, and I have spent my life making transitions with my body shape – losing weight, gaining weight, losing weight, gaining weight. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t lived in a heavier body truly recognizes these experiences, but those of us who do know exactly what it’s like.

The Unifying Factor: Our Shared Humanity

Later that evening, my friend Maria had a truly emotionally challenging time. There was crying, anger, and all sorts of emotions she needed to process. She kept apologizing, and it made me realize something profound: we are all human. Of course, I knew this intellectually, but seeing it so magnified in that moment was powerful. Each of us comes with our own “stuff.” Mine might look and act differently than someone else’s, but it’s just “stuff” nonetheless. Maria had her own, and each of us carries something unique. The unifying factor was that we’ve all been through life, and life is hard, and life is joyful.

The moral of this story is simply to allow yourself to be. Allow yourself to live the way you can, to choose joy whenever you can, and to celebrate those good moments with those you love. You truly don’t need to apologize when you think you’re holding people back, because in most cases, you’re not. And even if you are, you’re just being you.

Today, all my friends went hiking on the mountain. I looked down at my legs, covered in bruises from yesterday’s ride (no grace points there!), and decided to skip the walk. And they’re fine with it.

Find the people who love you, the people who won’t freak out if you’re not perfect or don’t fit into exactly what they want you to do. Find people who accept that we all have our quirks. These are your people.

I shared this story because it’s a hard story to have lived, and it’s a hard story to share, as I’m sharing my vulnerability. I own a bicycle store where I sell bicycles for heavy people, and the reality is that for several years, I haven’t been able to ride due to my health. Yesterday, I went out, and I rode! I had a blast, and I hated it, and I loved it, and I ended it early, and it’s all okay. My hope is that we all find the courage to embrace our authentic selves, to lean into our communities, and to live life to the fullest, whatever that looks like for each of us.