In fact, I'm sort of klutzy.
Years ago I saved and saved and babysat and saved and babysat, until I had enough money to buy a brand spanking new 10 speed bike. Those were just coming into vogue back then. If you come from RI, you might remember the little Benny's store in downtown East Greenwich. ~not the big, new fancy once, but the little one right downtown. That is where I got my wheels.
Promptly I rode it down to the elementary school, where my much younger sister was just finishing up a grueling day of kindergarten. I plopped her on the crossbar, carefully wrapped an arm around her, and off we went.
The glitch was her umbrella was swinging over one of those twirly handbar ends, got stuck in one of the front spokes, and flipped us right up and over into the street.
I landed first and was knocked out cold.
My sister landed on top of me, got up and walked the rest of the way home.
I came to as a neighborhood friend going by dragged me out of the street. I picked up my glasses from the middle of the road and looked around for my sister. I figured they must have hauled her off in the ambulance. I would never forgive myself.
In the meantime, I was feeling a little woozy myself. I'd hit so hard I even formed scabs inside my ears! But I made it home, and my mom put me to bed.
Every time I woke up, I asked where my sister was. I was sure they were hiding the worst from me. As it turns out, she was outside playing, having fun!
So, indeed, I did learn how to fly, even if it was just over my handlebars. I also learned to be a bit more respectful of bikes! Perhaps that is why I prefer a nice jog, because now when I trip and fall, the pain is still considerably less than an air flight crash landing!
I am a Putnamaniac and an ungraceful flier!