Cycling and the Distorted Reality of Instagram

I've always been into bikes. I rode to school when I was a kid (dragging my Converse sneakers on the sidewalk while rolling down hills, making the toes completely flat). I rode my bike around campus in college. When I moved to Chicago, I discovered that biking is, hands down, the best way to get around. It really helped me feel at home in that little city, biking over each and every street and learning my way around.

I did get called a "fat ass" once while riding in Chicago. Meh.

But after I moved to LA, I was completely intimidated by the hills. How does one bike up the side of a mountain!? We don't have anything like that in the Midwest, and I was used to super flat roads. I dabbled with riding my bike to work, but it wasn't until I got this shiny, new road bike that things started to get good. It's funny how having the right bike can make things click.
So I shared some photos on Instagram of my new, joyous hobby. Don't I look carefree and fit?

My boyfriend, Sergio, is an avid cyclist (that's what serious biker-people call themselves), and with his encouragement, I've biked up a few mountains.

Here's us, looking super happy, at the top of Griffith Park in LA:

Let me tell you a little secret: Although I was proud that I had biked up the side of a mountain to get to the top of the park, I was not happy. It was really hard to do, and I actually cried on the side of the road while trying to push myself to finish the ride. I did finish, and it was wonderful coming back down, but it was not what this picture shows.
That was going to be the end of this post, along with a line about how little we share of the true story on social media. Then last Sunday I took a spill on my bike, and ended up in the emergency room. I am totally fine - sore and some road rash, but nothing broken - and I thought it would be funny to post a picture of myself on Instagram. You can see it here.
I'm not going to repost it here because I was told that it was "really graphic." If you look, you'll see some blood, but also a huge smile on my face. To be honest, that smile was much more real than the one in the picture above. Yes, I had gone down, and yes, I had gotten scraped up, but I was truly happy to have toughed it out and wanted to share that with the world. Did I look gross? Maybe a little, but it was real.
I lost followers because of that picture. Yes, I mostly post pretty, happy knitting and hiking and food pictures. But one picture of a proud, albeit bloody, biker was not what people wanted to see.
Have you ever hesitated to post something that wasn't pretty or nice because you were worried about what people would think? Is Instagram a place where people don't want to see the real world? Probably, and that makes me a little sad. I value the friends I've made through Instagram, and value every single "heal up!" comment I received.

So thank you, friends, for looking at a true picture of me in a difficult moment, and offering encouragement.