By all accounts, being a cyclist in Iran is a hard job, but if you want to be a girl and ride a bike, you have to go through a lot of bitter reproachful looks and frowns, and finally ... maybe after a while, you get used to them and remember to take it easy, not care and just go ahead but sometimes things happen that bring you back to that unpleasant mood.

Like the time when you pass a car and ignorant drivers who think women should not drive a bike in street try to scare you by deviating towards you, trying to make you lose control, laugh at you, or when as they pass by you, they blow their horns loudly and frighten you.

At that moment, you must show how insignificant and worthless these people are, and you will continue on your way with independence and power. That is the only way to survive in a community still filled with ignorance and stupidity.

Sometimes they attack you and shout and wait for the slightest mistake from a girl cyclist and you have to prove yourself every second in eyes of the society.

However, there are times when people are kind. For example, when I went to buy fruits and a kind old man selling fruit put two extra lemons in my apple bag and kindly said: “Congratulations to you young athlete!”

And sometimes people get worried like when I went to the beach and the fisherman with his bright and sharp eyes who used to greet me and smile every day approached me and avoided the motorcyclist who was coming after me. And he said with concern: “You saw that young man who was riding a motorcycle! Runaway whenever you see him! Just run away!

And sometimes people are indifferent ... and sometimes people are good and sometimes they are bad ...

When you are a girl cyclist, you learn to be clever and shrewd and at the same time hard-working.