Back in the Driver's Seat

No more excuses: how visualisation can get you back behind the wheel.

The phrase “like riding a bike” is used to describe a skill that, once learned, can't be forgotten. In a coaching book I’m reading, the author uses this synonymously with learning to drive a car. These analogies don’t work for me. You see, I’m learning to drive all over again, and I’ve never been good on a bike.

I failed my cycling proficiency test at primary school. It wasn’t a biggie. I wasn’t banned from cycling after that, and I don’t remember being particularly upset. I still rode my bike badly around the neighbourhood, occasionally flying over the handlebars, but all the kids were doing that. I’ve always had a bike ever since, but I know my approach is somewhat chaotic. I’m careful where and with whom I cycle. When we became parents, my husband attached the baby seat to the back of his bike. As our family grew, he added a further contraption for toddlers. I never questioned why we didn’t share the kids among us – we love them equally.

Last summer, we went for our first longer ride in years without the kids along the Danube. We had to cross a bridge, which was tight and angular. I’m useless at sharp corners and have the bruises to prove it. My husband raced ahead (he probably wasn’t racing at all, but it felt like it to me), and I bashed against railings repeatedly, thankful they were there. I eventually got off and pushed the bike across when I heard the cyclist behind me splutter; he had the grace to hide his laughter when I stood to the side, and he whizzed past me. I’m just not a born cyclist. I’m fine with my limitations, and, in cycling, they don’t greatly impact my life.

Driving is a different story. I always wanted to drive and, unlike cycling, failing your test means you can't, of course. It took me three attempts to pass: I sped around corners (bloody corners) on the first, then slow-snailed it because I was trying to be good on the second, but, to quote Goldilocks, the third attempt was “just right”.

I was away. I will never forget that feeling of freedom. Unfortunately, my driving style reverted to that of my first test. I received a warning at work for screeching into the car park and causing the Managing Director to run for his life, my nan only agreed to be a passenger in my car once and never again, and my lovely best friend and non-driver (at the time) who was usually oblivious to my erratic driving style went white as a sheet when I tipped the car racing around a roundabout. But I felt confident.

Then I moved to Austria and had to get used to the other side of the road. This wasn’t a huge problem, apart from smashing my hand against the door for a week trying to habitually change gear and inadvertently playing chicken a few times because the roads were so deserted where I lived, meaning no cars to orient myself after one of my wide corner turns.

The issues I had were with the multiple road signs (masses of them for you directly, and you are expected to look at the backs of others to anticipate the movements of your fellow drivers – I don’t remember this in the UK), strange rules about pedestrians being allowed to cross when cars turn after a green light and the dreaded trams. Add in trying to find a parking space in the city, and I promptly sold my car upon moving to Vienna, where public transport is cheap and reliable. That was twenty years ago.

I’ve attempted to drive again on a few occasions, but for the sake of my husband’s blood pressure and the good people of Vienna, I decided to stick to the bus. Even when the kids needed to be at various activities simultaneously, I refused to drive, preferring to split myself in two. I declined the offer of a parking space at my last job and to halve the hour-long journey in each direction, reasoning that I’d use the time to read. Other excuses have included safety, fitness, cost, the environment and excessive signage (again).

However, now that I have my fingers in an increasing number of pies, driving would save me many hours between regular venue changes in future. Time is precious.

We all have a point at which we run out of excuses or when the advantages outweigh the disadvantages. I started questioning each of the above excuses. I also listed what I would gain, which was a lot, but lists aren’t always the answer, as I noted in another post. I then used something I have with many coaching clients; I visualised how I would feel if I could drive again. I sent myself back to the early driving days and felt that freedom and (over)confidence. I appreciated the ease it would bring to our family situation, and I imagined what I would do with the time I saved.

Visualisations don’t work for everyone, and they are not the only answer to tackling any issue. However, the way something makes us feel is a game changer, whether negative or positive. If you want to try it, here’s a quick and simple guide:

• Pick a reference situation from your life (mine was how I felt when I first learnt to drive).

• Remember it (it doesn’t have to be exact, but make it real), close your eyes and hear what you heard, see what you saw, and add in any other senses as relevant.

• Finally, focus on feeling what you felt.

• Apply it to the situation occupying your thoughts.

If there’s something you find yourself scraping the barrel to reason out of, something you’re avoiding, postponing or completely ruling out, but it keeps coming up in your life, maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t be denying yourself of it any longer. You might just need to get back behind the wheel and practice. That’s what I’m doing. So, watch out if you happen to be frequenting the streets of Vienna, especially when turning those corners 😉.