on bicycles and calculus

My gut tells "not yet" all the time. I've been putting off a doctor's appointment for quite sometime now. I've neglected fitness for almost a year now, so I fear the negative results from a doctor's checkup. I tell myself that once I attain adequate fitness again, I'll run in for a checkup. It sounds silly, but this is the type of attitude that stops me from doing things, from something as simple as a checkup to more complicated matters like career goals. I always want to perfect my environment before starting something fresh.

The concept is familiar. In secondary school, for every intermediate level class, there is a required prerequisite beginner level class. There's nothing wrong with this. In many scenarios, there really exists steps which we must climb sequentially to reach our goal. There's no way we can learn calculus without learning algebra first.

However, take the experience of learning how to ride a bicycle. This is not like learning algebra before calculus. There is no first step to learning how to ride a bicycle. You don't know how to ride a bicycle until you do. The experience of learning requires many falls and then a suddenly click -- and then you become this kid. Sure, there are training wheels, but the dynamics of riding a two wheeled vehicle vastly differs from riding with three or more wheels. The magic of countersteering and a topic for another time.

Perhaps we mix up these two scenarios too often. I sometimes think that coding will be like riding a bicycle, it will all just click in my head someday, when in actuality, there's so many layers to it. I can't just expect for it to click, just like a second grader will not understand a calculus book no matter how many times he reads it.

On the other hand, we fear trying new things. We mull over the idea of being friends with someone and assess and plan strategies to get to know them, when the best solution is the simplest one -- say hello, and it might crash like we do when we crash our bikes while learning, and that's okay. Of course, this is a simplification of the things we accomplish; in reality most things are probably a mixture of calculus and bicycle riding. However for some unbeknownst reason, I keep assuming the calculus is bicycle riding, and bicycle riding is calculus.

I ran a marathon a little over a year ago. Given the time could have been better, but crossing that line really told me that being a marathon runner is nothing special. It's just taking the time to train, just showing up on game day. Sidenote, I essentially haven't run since. I've probably also forgotten most of my calculus.