当你第一次骑自行车时感到害怕的英语作文

当你第一次骑自行车时感到害怕的英语作文
全文共3篇示例，供读者参考
篇1
Learning to Ride a Bike: My Scary First Time
I still remember the day when I first tried to learn how to ride
a bike. It was a sunny Saturday morning and my dad had promised to teach me. I was really excited because all of my friends could already ride bikes and I felt left out. But I was also really nervous and scared. What if I fell and got hurt? What if I couldn't do it?
We went to the park near our house because the sidewalks there are wide and flat, which my dad said would be perfect for learning. He had the bike all ready – it was my big brother's old bike that he didn't need anymore since he got a new one for his birthday. It had big training wheels on the back to help keep me stable as I practiced.
"Are you ready to be a big kid and learn to ride a bike?" my dad asked with a big smile as we approached the empty path.
I nodded bravely, but my stomach felt like it was full of bouncy balls. Part of me was really excited to finally learn this
skill, but another part was terrified of wiping out and scraping my knees up.
My dad first showed me how to properly put on the helmet to protect my head. Then he went over the brakes and pedals and had me practice using them while he held onto the back of the seat. Once he saw that I knew how the bike worked, it was time for the real practice to begin.
"Okay, I'm going to run along behind you holding the seat. When you feel steady, let me know and I'll let go for a few seconds at a time," my dad instructed.
I took a deep breath and nodded. My palms were sweaty from gripping the handlebar stems. Slowly but surely, I started pedaling and wobbling along the path. Having my dad holding on helped me feel a little more secure, but I also knew that letting go was the key to really learning.
"You're doing great! Let me know when you're ready for me to let go," my dad encouraged from behind me.
After a few minutes, I got up the courage. "Okay, you can let go for a little bit," I said, trying not to let the fear show in my voice.
My dad let the seat go and I could instantly feel the difference in balance. I wavered back and forth, struggling to stay upright. But I didn't fall! I pedaled a few more feet before panic set in again.
"Okay, you can grab on again!" I called out. My dad quickly grabbed the seat to steady me.
We repeated this process over and over for about an hour. With each attempt at riding on my own, I could go a little farther before needing my dad's assistance. But I was still really shaky and didn't feel confident enough to try longer stretches.
"You're making great progress!" my dad would reassure me whenever I started getting frustrated or discouraged. "Stick with it and you'll have this down before you know it."
After taking a snack break to re-energize, we got back to practicing. I was getting tired, but I didn't want to give up. Not after coming this far. My friends would be so impressed that I could finally ride a bike when they saw me at school on Monday!
The thought of showing off my new skills to my friends motivated me to keep trying hard, despite the burning in my legs and the sweat dripping down my face. My arms ached from
gripping the handlebars so tightly each time my dad let go and I fought to stay balanced.
And then, something clicked. Whether it was just muscle memory finally kicking in or the determination paying off, I'm not sure. But suddenly, I was able to pedal and glide on my own for longer stretches without feeling like I was going to wipe out any second.
"That's it! You've got it!" my dad cheered from the side, letting me ride independently up and down the path. "I'm so proud of you for not giving up!"
The fear that had been gripping my mind and body slowly melted away with each successful pass. I wasn't whizzing by at top speed or doing any fancy tricks yet, but I was riding a bike ALL BY MYSELF! The biggest grin spread across my face as I looped around, barely needing to use the pedals thanks to the momentum.
Of course, I eventually got tired and needed to stop for the day. But in that moment, exhausted yet euphoric, I knew I had conquered one of the biggest milestones of childhood. Learning to ride a bike is no easy feat, but with determination, courage, and a whole lot of practice, I pushed through the fear
andaccomplished something I'll never forget. I can't wait to show my friends!
篇2
The First Time I Rode a Bike
I still remember the day like it was yesterday. The sun was shining brightly, and a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees in our backyard. It was the perfect summer day to learn how to ride a bike without training wheels for the first time.
My dad had surprised me with a brand new red bicycle for my 8th birthday a few weeks earlier. It was the best present ever!
I had been begging him to let me ride a "big kid" bike for what felt like forever. Finally, after years of patiently watching the neighborhood kids zoom by on their two-wheelers while I pedaled along on my old bike with the babyish training wheels, it was going to be my turn.
I can still picture the shiny new bike sitting there on our patio, almost glowing in the sunlight. The sleek red paint job looked so cool, and those big tires made the bike seem gigantic compared to my little old one. I ran my hands along the smooth metal frame in awe, admiring every last detail from the rubber
handgrips to the shiny silver bell. This was a real bike for a real big kid – for me!
My dad must have noticed the huge grin spreading across my face because he smiled back and said, "You ready to give it a try, champ? I'll be right here holding on to keep you steady."
Part of me wanted to jump up and down screaming "Yes! Yes!
A million times yes!" But the other part of me suddenly felt a little lump form in my throat. What if I fell? What if I couldn't do it? Learning to ride without training wheels seemed so scary now that the moment was finally here.
I tried to keep my voice from wavering as I replied, "Um...okay Dad. I'll try."
He walked the bike over to the flat driveway and gestured for me to climb on. With shaky legs, I threw my leg over the crossbar and gingerly settled myself onto the saddle. It felt so much higher off the ground than my old bike!
"Alright, just hold the handlebars steady and put your feet on the pedals," my dad instructed calmly, gripping the rear end of the seat to keep the bike upright. "I've got you, you're not going to fall. When you're ready, start pedaling and I'll run alongside you."
I wrapped my small fingers tightly around the rubber grips and stared down at the pedals, trying to muster up my courage. In my head, I went through the steps one more time like my dad had showed me: Pedals go around, push down with your feet, steer by turning the handlebars, use the hand brakes to stop. It seemed so simple when we had practiced without the bike even moving. But now that it was actually time to give it a go for real, my heart was pounding like a drum in my chest.
What if I crashed into something? What if I went too fast and couldn't stop? What if I fell over sideways and really hurt myself? All these fears kept spinning through my mind, making my palms sweat against the handgrips.
"You've got this, just take it slow and I won't let anything happen to you," my dad reassured me, giving the seat a little wiggle to get my attention. "Don't be scared, it's gonna be fun! Just start pedaling when you feel ready."
I took a deep breath, puffed out my chest as far as it could go, and gave a determined nod. You can do this, I told myself. If all those other kids can ride bikes, then so can you! No more being a baby, time to become a real big kid.
With one last gulp, I put all my focus into turning the pedals over. Around and around they went as I pushed with all my
might, and suddenly I could feel the bike inching along. My dad's grip on the seat switched to just a light touch as his stride quickened to keep up.
"There you go! There you go! You're doing it, you're riding!" he cheered happily from beside me. "Keep pedaling, don't stop!"
The world seemed to be whizzing by in a blur of colors as the bike picked up more and more speed. The rushing wind whipped through my hair and stung my eyes, but I didn't care -- I was finally riding a real two-wheeler like the big kids! All the neighborhood yards and houses flew past in a jumbled mess as I zoomed ahead, with just my dad's steady form keeping pace beside me.
Suddenly, a wide grin broke out across my face. The fear that had gripped me so tightly just moments ago had melted away into pure joy and exhilaration. This was amazing! I was actually doing it, I was riding a bike all by myself just like I had dreamed! !
In that moment, I felt like I could do anything. All the doubts and worries just disappeared from my mind as the wonderful realization washed over me -- I was a real big kid now. Training wheels, baby bikes, they were all just distant memories. The open road was mine to cruise, and nothing could stop me!
Well, nothing except my dad yelling "Brake! Use the brake! You've got to stop now!"
His shouts finally pierced through the euphoric haze, and I realized the end of our long driveway was rapidly approaching. In a panic, my hands slammed down on the handbrakes, bringing the bike to an abrupt and shuddering halt just in the nick of time.
Once I caught my breath and reassured my startled dad that I was okay, a fresh wave of pride and accomplishment washed over me. In just those few minutes, I had conquered one of the biggest milestones of kid-dom and proven to the whole world that I was not a baby anymore. The smile on my face stretched from ear-to-ear as the realization hit me -- I could ride a bike! From that day forward, the backyard, the neighborhood, the entire world was mine to explore on two wheels.
Looking back, I realize that initial rush of confidence and freedom from riding a "big kid" bike for the first time was just the start. Over the years that followed, that same sense of exhilaration, that same feeling of casting off the fears holding me back in order to try something new, would propel me forward through so many other childhood milestones and adventures. Learning to swim, making new friends at a new school, stepping
up to the plate in little league games -- each of those big "kid" moments started with the same bubbling stew of excitement and trepidation that I felt that very first time perched atop my new two-wheeler in the driveway.
Of course, not every attempt at growing up and becoming more independent was accomplished quite as smoothly as that initial bike riding success. There were plenty of future stumbles, falls, and moments of uncertainty along the way too. But each time, I would just dust myself off, get back up in the saddle, and keep on pedaling ahead into whatever new challenges awaited. Because in my heart, I knew that if I could just overcome that very first big hurdle of riding on two wheels without my dad's helping grip, I could conquer anything else that life threw my way.
So while that very first bike ride may have started off shaky and terrifying, by the time those wheels finally rolled to a stop I felt like I was truly soaring. In that one small moment, with the wind rushing by and my dad's proud smile beside me, the world just seemed to be overflowing with endless possibilities. All I had to do was lean forward, put a little courage into the pedals, and see where the ride could take me next.
篇3
My First Bike Ride: A Scary Adventure
It was a sunny Saturday morning, and I had just turned eight years old. For my birthday, my parents surprised me with the most amazing gift – a brand new bicycle! It was a sleek red BMX bike with thick tires and shiny handlebars. I had been begging for a bike for what felt like forever, and I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the big red bow on top.
"Wow, is this really for me?" I gasped, my eyes wide with disbelief.
"That's right, champ," my dad replied with a big smile. "We figured it's about time you learned how to ride a bike like the big kids."
I ran my hands along the smooth metal frame, a huge grin spreading across my face. Finally, after years of watching the neighborhood kids cruise up and down the street on their bikes, I would be able to join them. No more sitting on the sidewalk feeling left out – I was going to be a real cyclist!
Of course, my excitement was paired with a teeny tiny feeling of nervousness bubbling in my belly. Sure, I had watched my friends ride bikes a million times, but actually doing it myself seemed...scary. What if I fell off and got hurt? What if I couldn't
balance and made a fool of myself in front of everyone? I tried to push those worries to the back of my mind as my dad led me and my shiny new bike out to the driveway.
"Okay, buddy, let's get you started," he said, holding the bike steady as I awkwardly climbed onto the seat. "I'm going to help hold you up at first until you get the hang of balancing."
I gripped the handlebars tightly, my knuckles turning white. My legs felt like jelly as I tried to figure out where to put my feet on the pedals. This was a lot harder than it looked!
"Just take it slow and focus on staying upright," my dad instructed. "I've got you, don't worry."
With my dad's firm hands on the back of the seat, I shakily pushed off with my feet and started pedaling. Immediately, I could feel the bike wobbling back and forth precariously.
"Whoa, whoa, stay straight! Eyes looking ahead," my dad called out, helping to steer me in the right direction.
I squeezed my eyes shut, terrified that I would veer off course and end up crashing into a parked car or the neighbor's bushes. My heart was pounding in my ears as I pedaled faster, the wind whipping through my hair. This was absolutely terrifying! How did kids make it look so easy?
After what felt like an eternity of white-knuckle cycling, I finally heard my dad's voice calling out, "You got it, you got it! I'm going to let go now."
My eyes snapped open just in time to feel his supportive hands leave the seat. I was riding completely on my own now, and panic shot through me.
"No no no, don't let go! I can't do this!" I wailed, quickly losing control of the handlebars.
But it was too late – my dad had released his grip, and I was veering wildly across the driveway, pedaling like mad. Suddenly, the front tire hit a rock and I went flying over the handlebars, landing hard on the pavement with a sickening thud. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes as a searing pain shot through my knees and palms, which had taken the brunt of the fall.
"Ohhh buddy, are you okay?" my dad cried, rushing over to help me up. I just lay there on the ground, wailing at the top of my lungs.
"I can't do it, I can't ride a bike!" I sobbed, cradling my skinned and bloodied hands. "It's too scary, I'm never trying that again!"
My mom soon joined us, gently brushing the gravel out of my scrapes and trying to calm me down. Eventually the tears subsided, but I was still shaken to my core. Riding a bike was one of the most terrifying experiences of my young life so far! How could anyone possibly enjoy risking their life like that?
Over the next few days, I refused to so much as look at my new bike, which sat sadly in the garage gathering dust. My friends would ride by and wave, asking when I was finally going to join them, but I just shook my head stubbornly. No way was I getting back on that death trap!
But my dad wasn't ready to give up that easily. A week later, he came home from the store with a brand new helmet and some protective gear – elbow pads, knee pads, even special gloves to keep my hands safe in case I took another spill.
"Come on, bud, let's give it one more try," he said in a gentle but firm voice. "I got all this equipment to help you feel safer. Don't give up before you even really start!"
I eyed the pile of safety gear skeptically, but a tiny part of me still wanted to conquer this bike riding thing. Maybe with all that padding, it wouldn't be quite so scary?
Slowly, I started getting re-excited about the idea of riding. We took the bike out to the driveway again, and this time I suited up like a pro cyclist – helmet strapped tightly, pads covering every inch of my body. I was like a tinysia bike from riding on a was pretty funny looking, but feeling so protected helped ease my nerves.
With my dad stabilizing me as before, I started pedaling and balancing, repeating the process over and over again. Little by little, the motions became more natural, and I could feel myself getting steadier and more confident with each lap around the driveway.
Then came the big moment – time for my dad to let go and let me ride solo again. I sucked in a huge breath, giving him a determined nod that I was ready. His hands left the seat, and to my utter disbelief...I stayed upright! I was riding the bike all by myself, shakily but surely pedaling up and down our driveway under my own power.
"That's it buddy, you're doing it! I'm so proud of you!" my dad cheered from the sidelines, his face beaming.
With each lap, my confidence grew. I started pedaling faster, taking wider turns around the driveway. The fear that had gripped me so tightly began to melt away, slowly being replaced
by a sense of joy and freedom. This feeling of wind in my hair and wheels under my feet, of being in total control yet feeling so free – it was absolutely incredible!
By the end of that day, I never wanted to get off my bike again. I had transformed from a shaky, terrified amateur into a kid who couldn't get enough of cycling. That evening at dinner, I chattered nonstop about all the cool tricks I wanted to learn, the adventures I hoped to have exploring the neighborhood on two wheels. My parents just smiled and listened, so happy that I had finally conquered my fear.
From that day on, I became absolutely obsessed with biking. My friends and I would spend entire summers coasting around town, racing each other and going on expeditions to see who could find the most fun hills or ramps to cycle over. My bike became my most prized possession, representing freedom, courage, and the thrilling feeling of accomplishing something that once seemed impossible.
Looking back, I realize that being scared was a totally natural reaction when trying something new and challenging for the first time. Bike riding is no easy feat, especially for a young kid – of course it was terrifying at first! But by persevering through that fear instead of letting it hold me back, I gained a lifelong passion
and skill that brought me so much joy throughout childhood. My dad's patience, encouragement, and commitment to helping me feel safe made all the difference.
So to any kids out there trying to learn how to bike, or take on any other scary new experience – don't give up! Allow yourself to feel that fear, but don't let it control you. Suit up with safety gear, take things slowly, and most importantly, keep trying even when you want to quit. The feeling of finally overcoming your fears and crushing your goals is absolutely priceless. Trust me, once you catch that wind in your hair, you'll never want to stop riding!。