Jane Moore’s journey is one of courage, healing, and rediscovery. Every mile on her Pedego bike isn’t just a ride forward—it’s a ride back to freedom, strength, and joy. 💛✨
In 1989, my life nearly ended. I was almost murdered. The physical recovery took eight years of my life. I carry that spiritual trauma on my worst days even now.
Something extraordinary happens when I ride my Pedego bike. I’m not just moving forward with every mile, I’m moving backward, too. I go back to 1976. That was the year I rode from Idaho Springs to Marble, Colorado, and over Mount Evans on a bicycle. I was strong. I was free. I was fully alive and for the most part innocent.
(I am training to ride across the USA in 2026 to celebrate freedom and the wonderful United States of America with her justice system that moves slow, but sure.)
Today, when I ride 15 or 30 miles on my Pedego, I’m not escaping my past, I’m reclaiming it. I feel that version of myself again, the fearless, vibrant woman pedaling toward the sky. The wind in my face, the rhythm of the road, and the whisper of the tires on pavement. The sound, the motion and the wind speak to me and says, 'You made it. You’re still here.' My bike is not just exercise, it’s time travel. It’s therapy. It’s a reunion with the best parts of me." I go all the way to the joyful freedom of a 5-year-old careening down a hill with hands in the air, perfect balance! "Go daddy long legs!" Although I am still puzzled, as to why my 5-year-old-self screamed that in jubilation!”
One of my favorite artists is Boulanger, from South America. She paints with joy—colorful, alive, playful. There’s one piece I love the most: a girl on a bike, her dachshund in the basket, ears flapping wildly in the wind. That image—it’s not just art to me. It’s a mirror.
That’s how I feel on my Pedego. Like that girl. Free, full of light, hair blowing, heart wide open. The wind becomes music, the pedals become rhythm, and for that time—15, maybe 30 miles—I am more than healed. I am whole. My body remembers joy. My spirit remembers color. Just like Boulanger's painting, I become part of something vibrant again—something worth framing.”