I'm 64 and a week old.

My motorcycling journey started when I was 47, and if I'm honest, I wasn't exactly a natural rider. In fact, I only started learning because of a friend.

She announced she was going to learn to ride a motorcycle and, being single at the time, I became convinced she was about to disappear into the exciting world of bikers and leave me behind as Billy No Mates.

So naturally, I signed up too.

My first bike was a lovely Yamaha Virago 125. Although, thanks to my slightly warped sense of humour, I always referred to it as my "Viagra".

Looking back now, I realise learning to ride was one of the best decisions I ever made, although it didn't always feel that way at the time.

Not long after I started riding, I met a biker who was a bit older than me. Looking back, he wasn't particularly supportive of my riding. I often came away feeling that I wasn't really capable of doing it on my own and that I would always need to rely on someone else.

Over time, that chipped away at my confidence.

There were moments when I seriously considered giving up altogether.

I think many women will recognise that feeling. Sometimes it isn't a lack of ability that holds you back. Sometimes it's being made to doubt yourself.

Then I met my husband, Chris.

Chris is also a biker, but his attitude couldn't have been more different.

He encouraged me without pushing me, supported me without taking over and always made me feel that my riding journey belonged to me.

When I was struggling with my confidence, he simply said:

"If you want to give up, that's fine. It's entirely your choice. I'm happy for you to ride pillion if that's what you want."

Oddly enough, hearing that was exactly what I needed.

For the first time, there was no pressure.

No expectations.

No feeling that I had something to prove.

The decision was completely mine.

And that's when I realised I didn't want to stop.

I started taking lessons for my full licence. This was before the rules changed, so I was able to take my test on a 125. It wasn't straightforward—I needed two attempts to pass both my theory test and my riding test—but eventually I got there.

And when I did, I absolutely loved it.

Over the years, however, I've discovered that I'm an overthinker. The older I've become, the more I analyse things, worry about things and occasionally talk myself out of things.

At one stage I owned a Suzuki SV650. It was a great bike, but it always felt a little heavy to me. Then again, perhaps that was just my excuse!

These days I own a beautiful Honda Shadow 750. When I bought it, it was literally in pieces and needed rebuilding. Watching it come back to life has been part of the adventure.

The funny thing is, I know I'm a capable rider.

I know I can do it.

I know I enjoy it.

I recently rode the Shadow to its MOT appointment and absolutely loved every minute of it.

Yet I'm still very good at getting all my riding gear on, getting ready to go out, and then changing my mind at the last minute. I suspect I'm not the only one. The difference now is that I've stopped beating myself up about it.

Motorcycling isn't a competition. It's meant to be enjoyable and every time I do get out on the bike, I'm reminded why I started in the first place.

This year I've made myself a promise. I'm going to ride more. I'm going to spend more time on the Shadow.

And I'm going to stop letting my overthinking win.

After all, the best rides always start with taking that first step out of the front door.

The End?

Definitely not.

To be continued...