Stolen Bikes and Silver Linings

I had my bike stolen yesterday. 

I learned last week that the turnstile at work had reopened and pre-covid—when I wasn’t traveling—I biked to work. I would park at the bike racks outside the facility where I worked, a military base, and walk through the turnstile. I was elated at the idea of biking to work again. In the morning I planned my day around it, like I used to; packed shoes in my bag, and wore sensible ones; pumped my tires with air; and made sure I had the key to my bike lock. 

I got to work, pleased to feel my thighs tingle from a bike ride and locked up my bike. I fixed my hair, futilely, from helmet hair and began my day, genuinely happy with the endorphins running through me of a pre-work bike ride. 

At 4:08pm, I left my office, anticipating the beautiful bike ride along the bike path to the wine tasting room where I’d be meeting girlfriends for a 4:30 reservation for wine tasting. I walked to the bike racks and didn’t see a single bike. When I parked it this morning it had been the only one there but what...? 

I questioned myself, had I parked somewhere else? But no. I remembered every detail. The man talking on his phone watching me lock up my bike. Emptying the baskets on the back of my bike, lifting it over the rack and weaving the lock through the front tire and the bike rack, collecting my things, entering my ID card and password to go through the turnstile. I had definitely parked it there, a routine I had had for years.

I filed a police report and just felt all these emotions. I texted my girlfriends that my bike had been stolen and called the tasting room to tell them we’d be late. One of the friends I was to be meeting offered to pick me up. I went through my emotions, as I do, when something big like this or upsetting happens to me. How should I feel? What do people whom I respect feel and say to feel in situations like this? Probably what inspired the WWJD movement of the lates 90s but more like what would my mom do? What would Marcus Aurelius do? What am I supposed to learn from this?

I tend to take the give-everyone-the-benefit-of-the-doubt side of things. So, while upset that I had so many memories with this bike, that my brother had bought me this bike as a gift when I’d first began working, that I had taken care of it and it was special to me, I tried out the “maybe they needed it more than I did” philosophy to make myself feel better, while still honoring my belief that it’s wrong to take other people’s things.

My friend picked me up and we drove to the winery and Josh, the owner, whom I know, came out. “Her bike was just stolen,” my friend said. And he and his tasting room manager expressed their condolences and listened to me tell the story. 

“Maybe they needed it more than I did,” I said, my attempt to console myself and take the high road but Josh retorted, “That’s not for them to decide.”

And he is right. It’s wrong to take other people’s things. And it’s ok for me to be upset about it. Will I go “seek justice” and get even if I find the person who took my bike? No. But I will try to find my bike and I will feel upset for someone having taken something that was meaningful—and useful!—to me. 

I’m always impressed by quick thinkers because I’m not one. I take my time to process and internalize and talk about it write about it and reflect on it and how would others react before I come to a conclusion. So I’m grateful for Josh’s quick, just, and logical comment. It’s not for others to decide if they need my things—or anyone else's things—more than I do. And, it’s wrong to take others’ belongings. (I also like that WWJD turned out to be what would Josh do in this case, not Jesus.)

But even still, I try to see the silver lining in things. I try to gain or learn something from every experience, unfavorable as it may be and I have to say, this experience got me to write a blog post for the first time in about a year. So maybe the silver lining is that my processing and writing and meditating on this experience was to get me to start blogging again. I hope that's the case because I miss having this outlet to process my thoughts.