I have a defunct bicycle.

"I need a bicycle - STAT!" I said to my dad. Without one, I wouldn't be able to participate in the upcoming bicycle races organized by several of my classmates (past and present). So he agreed to find one for me. And he did. So with it and my bookbag, I drove to school and dragged the bike into a classroom where we would all get ready for the races. It had been years since I'd tried to ride a bicycle. I knew I should practice before the races, but I didn't want my classmates to notice if I struggled. So I sat still on the bike until the start of the first race. "...GO!" I grabbed for my bike's handle bars, prepared to pedal off, which is when I realized that my bike didn't have handle bars. It had a grip for each of my hands only attached to the bike by fishing line. By a lot of fishing line. I grabbed one grip each with both of my hands and stretched my arms straight up and off to both sides until all the fishing line was extended, and tight. Which is when I realized that pedaling a bike in this position is impossible. How can I see where I'm going when I'm so focused on keeping the fishing line taut? How can I pick up speed with my arms in the air? I called it quits so I could find another bike. By the time I did, one race remained. In this one, every participant would be connected to each other by one giant piece of string tied to each of us. I arrived so late, however, that nobody told me we'd all be attached by a piece of string. So as I started to pedal, I feld an awkward tug and I noticed the string tied in a tiny knot to my shirt. "What the...?" I grabbed the string and ripped it off my shirt, which meant I could finally pedal faster. Unfortunately, it also meant I'd disqualified myself and everyone behind me for being disconnected. Then, I woke up. - - - - Had this dream last night.