(no subject)
By Friday evening, I was a nervous wreck. My stomach had so many butterflies in it I could've just floated away, but managed to stay grounded long enough to fill my tank up and head out to the DOT headquarters where the classes would start. I got there about a half an hour early, and was welcomed in about fifteen minutes after I arrived. And thus I was introduced to the Motorcycle class. After the first night reading through several units on Motorcycle Readiness and safety, my brain was already friend with the basics. Per the instructors unexpected changes in schedule, I was requested to rise and be at the Riding Range at or earlier than 7:45 AM; this means an Alarm of 6 AM.
And I am NOT, nor have I EVER BEEN a morning person.
It was like a death sentence.
But, I read my homework, and showed up bright and early for the first morning on the range, not knowing in the least what to expect - after all, I had only actually physically ridden a motorcycle three days before to at least get the hang of riding one. Despite my fears, Bubba, the largest in the class, had bough doughnuts and was the lighthearted one, poking fun and having a good time. He made the class easier to take. Nice guy with a wife, daughter that loves to ride horses, and generally a teddy bear of a guy, kept encouraging me not to be afraid, but to go for it. The trainer of the class was super nice and helped even more with understanding the information.
By the end of the day, I had surprised myself and the entire class with my hidden capabilities.
By the time the class had finished the last portion of the day, I was so tired my I kept nearly nodding off on the couch. Even so, I managed to go to the store, buy more eggs and such, start on a backdrop for a charity event, and read my homework assignments as well as answering the questions for each ending unit. I also manage to grab another gatorade to avoid cramping int he morning, and pop not only my perscription but also three ibuprofen to keep my muscles relaxed while I sleep so I'll at least get some deep sleep. The importance of tomorrow doesn't hit me until two in the morning, when recurring nightmares keep hinting at my mind pro-actively convincing myself I was going to fail the class. I may have gotten all of three hours of REM sleep. Better than nothing.
I wake up this next day and realize: I have both my riding examination and my paper test are going to be today. And we haven't even completely gone through the book yet. The morning is spent trying to decide whether or not I should have coffee, getting ready, and putting my gear on as well as a nice quiet drive listening to Eat Me, Drink Me from Marilyn Manson. When I arrive, I don't feel nervous at first because I'm the second one there; but as more arrive, the nerves come back again.
I bundle my courage and ride the Range - then after the completion of range Examination, we're called over, but not given heads or tails of passing scores. The written exam goes the same way. I'm nervous as hell when I walk up being the first one finished with the exam, feeling like an arrogant jerk for finishing so soon. I wait, filling out the papers for the review on the teacher's part, and when Italian Bob motions me up, he quietly lets me know what questions I missed, and tells me to look at the correct answer to consider what is right and why I got that exam question wrong. Once I finish this, I go up again and hand all the paperwork in.
Bob quietly leans forward, shakes my hand, and congradulates me on passing this portion of the class.
I still have NO clue as to what I got on the riding portion of the exam and must sit nervously through th rest of the students taking their exams. Finding solace in doodling in the front of my Motorcycle Training Course Booklet, I burn up twenty minutes waiting for everyone else to finish. Bob announces that he will call each student up according to who finished their written exams first and I swallow the lump in my throat: I am, obviously, the first to walk with him down the hallway towards the entrance doors of DOT. We stop before the last door, he leans forward and smiles, and says, " You passed. Congradulations!"
I'm so relieved I can seriously feel my aura melted into a pool of goo on the floor. All of my tensed muscles and aching body, and this was worth every second. He even goes so far as to let me know that I will most likely be wanting to buy a larger tour bike soon, because I'll be too far advanced to stay on my piddly Rebel 250.
My weekend was long, hard, and painful, but so worth it in the end...
And I am NOT, nor have I EVER BEEN a morning person.
It was like a death sentence.
But, I read my homework, and showed up bright and early for the first morning on the range, not knowing in the least what to expect - after all, I had only actually physically ridden a motorcycle three days before to at least get the hang of riding one. Despite my fears, Bubba, the largest in the class, had bough doughnuts and was the lighthearted one, poking fun and having a good time. He made the class easier to take. Nice guy with a wife, daughter that loves to ride horses, and generally a teddy bear of a guy, kept encouraging me not to be afraid, but to go for it. The trainer of the class was super nice and helped even more with understanding the information.
By the end of the day, I had surprised myself and the entire class with my hidden capabilities.
By the time the class had finished the last portion of the day, I was so tired my I kept nearly nodding off on the couch. Even so, I managed to go to the store, buy more eggs and such, start on a backdrop for a charity event, and read my homework assignments as well as answering the questions for each ending unit. I also manage to grab another gatorade to avoid cramping int he morning, and pop not only my perscription but also three ibuprofen to keep my muscles relaxed while I sleep so I'll at least get some deep sleep. The importance of tomorrow doesn't hit me until two in the morning, when recurring nightmares keep hinting at my mind pro-actively convincing myself I was going to fail the class. I may have gotten all of three hours of REM sleep. Better than nothing.
I wake up this next day and realize: I have both my riding examination and my paper test are going to be today. And we haven't even completely gone through the book yet. The morning is spent trying to decide whether or not I should have coffee, getting ready, and putting my gear on as well as a nice quiet drive listening to Eat Me, Drink Me from Marilyn Manson. When I arrive, I don't feel nervous at first because I'm the second one there; but as more arrive, the nerves come back again.
I bundle my courage and ride the Range - then after the completion of range Examination, we're called over, but not given heads or tails of passing scores. The written exam goes the same way. I'm nervous as hell when I walk up being the first one finished with the exam, feeling like an arrogant jerk for finishing so soon. I wait, filling out the papers for the review on the teacher's part, and when Italian Bob motions me up, he quietly lets me know what questions I missed, and tells me to look at the correct answer to consider what is right and why I got that exam question wrong. Once I finish this, I go up again and hand all the paperwork in.
Bob quietly leans forward, shakes my hand, and congradulates me on passing this portion of the class.
I still have NO clue as to what I got on the riding portion of the exam and must sit nervously through th rest of the students taking their exams. Finding solace in doodling in the front of my Motorcycle Training Course Booklet, I burn up twenty minutes waiting for everyone else to finish. Bob announces that he will call each student up according to who finished their written exams first and I swallow the lump in my throat: I am, obviously, the first to walk with him down the hallway towards the entrance doors of DOT. We stop before the last door, he leans forward and smiles, and says, " You passed. Congradulations!"
I'm so relieved I can seriously feel my aura melted into a pool of goo on the floor. All of my tensed muscles and aching body, and this was worth every second. He even goes so far as to let me know that I will most likely be wanting to buy a larger tour bike soon, because I'll be too far advanced to stay on my piddly Rebel 250.
My weekend was long, hard, and painful, but so worth it in the end...