I knew it would eventually happen. And, in a way, I thought it would come as a bit of relief when it finally did occur. Now, I can say in fact that is the case. My first bike crash was not bad. I wasn't hurt, and neither was the bike. But, I had been anticipating it for the past 700 or so miles. And that was bad. Now that's out of the way, I think I will relax a little.
Dude, it happened fast. It was just the result of a careless wiggle of the handle bar. No dog, other bike, vehicle, or gravel was involved. I allowed my front wheel to wander a little as I shifted my grip on the handlebars. There was no shoulder on this stretch of road, and my wheel dropped off that precipitous ledge that divides the path of iron steeds from the rug of rain damp weeds. Too bad, Allen. Your fate is sealed; the die is cast.
The last wiggle had me leaning a little to my left, and soon my center of gravity drifted where my tires could not follow. My left pedal made contact with the ground first. My helmet hit last. 12 mph to zero in about 2 feet. Skin and cycling clothes make great for a fast halt on pavement. However, my gloved hands were spared from cuts, and the abrasion on my knee will be healed by Monday. My sore shoulder should be just fine by mid week. Glad it wasn't worse.
Anticipation often is more intense than the trauma itself. I see it a lot while raising our kids. It happens every "set change," where we have to replace the infusion tube that delivers insulin under Braeden's skin. He cries or is anxious when he is aware that it is time and frets throughout the 3 minute process until the delivery needle is withdrawn. Indicating, however, just how little discomfort is really involved, Braeden launches right back into play without limping or nursing his bum. It's just part of diabetes. And like my crash, the experience us a little wiser and thankful it is not worse.
Dude, it happened fast. It was just the result of a careless wiggle of the handle bar. No dog, other bike, vehicle, or gravel was involved. I allowed my front wheel to wander a little as I shifted my grip on the handlebars. There was no shoulder on this stretch of road, and my wheel dropped off that precipitous ledge that divides the path of iron steeds from the rug of rain damp weeds. Too bad, Allen. Your fate is sealed; the die is cast.
The last wiggle had me leaning a little to my left, and soon my center of gravity drifted where my tires could not follow. My left pedal made contact with the ground first. My helmet hit last. 12 mph to zero in about 2 feet. Skin and cycling clothes make great for a fast halt on pavement. However, my gloved hands were spared from cuts, and the abrasion on my knee will be healed by Monday. My sore shoulder should be just fine by mid week. Glad it wasn't worse.
Anticipation often is more intense than the trauma itself. I see it a lot while raising our kids. It happens every "set change," where we have to replace the infusion tube that delivers insulin under Braeden's skin. He cries or is anxious when he is aware that it is time and frets throughout the 3 minute process until the delivery needle is withdrawn. Indicating, however, just how little discomfort is really involved, Braeden launches right back into play without limping or nursing his bum. It's just part of diabetes. And like my crash, the experience us a little wiser and thankful it is not worse.
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