I ride my bike nearly every day. I don’t ride nearly as far these days but I’d like to think quantity is its own quality. In terms of health and exercise, I think getting my heart rate up for a good 40 minutes each day is probably doing ok – or at least better than average. I fantasize about riding longer. I see folks on the U-tubes riding across the state or country and I think, “Why not me? Why not now?”
How about because it’s 5pm on a Sunday night and you’ve got work tomorrow?
Boo inner voice, BOO! Who asked you?
This morning I was pushing that 40 minutes to 140. I was miles from home on my trusty Corsa. I was rolling slowly around a tight corner bending to the right, up to an intersection looking to turn left. I had a clear view of cars approaching from the left, as they’d be essentially in front of me coming around the curve. I wasn’t expecting a car from the right (It was still early in the morning and I didn’t hear anything coming) but I still made the awkward look back over my shoulder as I cleared the corner.
It turns out there was a car coming but I was going slow so it was easy to stop.
What wasn’t so easy was getting my foot out of my pedal when I was already unbalanced, with the wheel turned, and looking awkwardly over my shoulder.
The world slowed down.
I calmly came to a realization: “You’re gonna fall, John. There’s nothing you can do about it now. Just own it.” There was no danger of being hit by the car – just the pavement. Just inside the intersection my bike came to a stop. I didn’t struggle. My bike just slowly tipped over on its side and I rode it down – not much different from how I’d ridden it for the last hour and a half. Riding a recumbent puts you lower to the ground so I didn’t have that far to fall, but even from a few feet it hurts to break your fall with your hip and shoulder on asphalt.
I looked up from the ground, probably grimacing a bit from the impact that was destined to leave a mark. The car was stopped twenty feet or so back. Neither of us was moving. I saw that both of us were grimacing but only one of us was conveying amusement.
I got out of my pedals, out from under my bike, and off the ground as gracefully as I could re: not gracefully at all and gave the driver the universal, “I’m ok” sign, thinking “I am ok, right?”
Other than a wicked bruise on my ass and a lingering bruise to my ego, I think I am.
And so ends my accident free streak.