the first bike crash is always the hardest...

or not... i am hoping that this remains my first and only. i bit it hard on my bike last week in a beautifully choreographed one person train wreck. you know how the universe sometimes steps in change our direction in life? well i had my change come in the form of a grinding halt and seeing stars, pretty much right after my face hit the street. never pick fights with concrete - it's a good bet the odds are against you.

i had one session of acupuncture already, several days of hobbling around at snail's pace, and am now actually able to find a comfortable position to sleep in. new bruises surface each day, it seems. two days after it happened my ribs started to hurt. now my jaw aches. i did face plant, so i guess it's not surprising. the accident served multiple purposes. it made me realize that riding your bike when your stunned by some other event is not safe riding practice.


i was reeling from having lost my job unexpectedly (and for the first time in over 12 years), and i thought i could ride home. it was a beautiful day after all. i fumbled for my cell phone, and mind you i can bearly chew gum and ride at the same time, and saw it all unfold. i tapped the front break, started to lose control, then hit the front break harder (great idea) and flipped over the front of the bike. the street sucker punched me in the chin, and my bike managed to bruise me fairly equally down both sides of my ribs, stomach, and thighs - which took the brunt of the beating. i knew there was a car behind me but decided i would roll over and lay in the middle of the street for a moment anyway. the sky was clear and blue, and i was utterly defeated...

i remember making a flurry of phone calls. miraculously my glasses, cell phone, and helmet emerged fairly unscathed.
some of those calls were smarter than others. i knew that despite all the drama i'd managed to condense into a few hours, that i was going to be fine, and in my best moments i'm actually thankful for losing my job. but i had such a strong urge to sound the alarms... to call on my people for love and support, no matter how near or far they were. then i walked towards a friend's house to wait for her incredibly generous offer to bring the company van and a big-hearted co-worker to ick up me and my broken bike and take us home. i lay down on her porch, in the shade, and took stock of where i was bleeding and whether i'd missed anything else. and then i just cried.

auspicious timing perhaps, and i'm trying to keep my bruised chin up and look at the opportunities that this turn of events offers in its wake. that was my first day of summer. what a ride. that night i got on my husband's spare bike and rode, very slowly, to see a movie with friends. when you get thrown, you just get back on the horse, right?