Additional Trama...

Clearly, I am NOT a true cyclist or I would not be recovering from injuries. Yes, I ride a bike, but not very well! *laughing* To top the whole thing off, I get out of the shower - wounds bleeding profusely from a fresh scrubbing - and the only towels hanging on the rack are glistening, sparkling and gleaming white. So I call out for my medic and he is No Where to be found. With a few small tears of defeat trickling down my cheek and thoughts of “why did he leave when I’m INJURED?” I hobble naked to the guest bathroom and grab the first towel ‘of color’ that I can find. I wrap it around myself and reach for some toilet paper to dab off the excess blood that has run and it sticks here and there on my sticky-fresh wounds. Completely losing my composure, I begin sobbing and calling out his name as I wander through every room of the house. I expand the search the surrounding area of the backyard and garage for my missing medic. I even call his cell phone (the same one that was on his person during the earlier wreck) and as it is ringing in my ear, I hear the familiar tune jingling in the computer room. Of course.

Unable to locate my doctor I go back to the bathroom, pull out the hydrogen peroxide and proceed to pour it UNdiluted onto each of my wounds. HOLY MOLY!!!!!!!!! Woweeee-Oweee, it takes a moment to hit, just long enough for me to douse ALL of the wounds. SO - Now I’m crying even harder because my ankle, knees, the heel of my hand and my elbow are all bubbling, bleeding and ON FIRE. This is when I make the horrible discovery that it is humanly impossible to blow directly onto one’s own elbow, or for that matter, to blow in all those places at the same time.

Steaming mad and resolved in my determination to find husband, I go out the front door - crying, wrapped only in a towel with spots of toilet paper strategically placed here and there - and spot said ‘medic’ a few doors down ON MY BIKE at the neighbor’s house. I start waving one hand madly over my head while holding the towel with my other. It takes much restraint on my behalf to not scream his name at the top of my lungs. Either the display of skin or my wild waving finally go his attention. He races home and I start with the “...I... would... nev..errrr ..lee..ave... youuu... if... you... wer..re... hurrrt...” “...I... can..n’t... ...blow... on... my... owwwn... elll...bow!...”

He treats my wounds with much love and pity while I whimper and be as pathetic as possible. All is forgiven. Eventually. I guess the neighbor had gotten a brand new belt-sander and it was “Really Nice!”...

Spare a bandaid, or two, or three...

After a relaxing Saturday filled with yoga, meditation and Tai Chi, I really wanted to get back on that rigorous pre-holiday workout schedule and decided that I would ride my bike to work simply to see how long it would take me. I want to start riding to work twice a week on the nights I don't have class. I even had my husband take my old bike to the shop for a tune-up so it would be in perfect working order.

I got up on Sunday morning and put on my favorite warm running pants along with a cute matching top and my favorite jacket - borrowed from a different outfit. I located my new cushy bike seat, bike helmet (safety first) and sunglasses. I filled up my Camelbak, dug out my watch with timing capability and finally found my three-year-old, completely out-dated, Sony mp3 player. Works for me!

With much enthusiasm, I set out on my biking adventure. It's a new year and I am going to make a new habit - starting with this little time trial to work! I quickly shifted my bike into the toughest gear and relished the feeling of my burning legs, the nip of crisp winter air in my throat and the tingling sting of cool air rushing past my face. I had forgotten how riding fast made my eyes water since sunglasses divert the airflow - not AROUND one's eyes - but directly INTO them. My eyes were watering like crazy. My hands were cold and I was thankful to be in the moment!

I made it to work in an impressive 19 minutes including a detour around some construction!! I smiled and did a small victory lap around the parking lot before turning around to head back home. I couldn't wait to burst in the door and hear my husband say, "Wow, that was fast!"

I made remarkable time back through downtown Scottsdale and everything was going just as planned until I felt the traffic getting a bit close to me as I flew down the bike lane of a busy road. I made a snap decision to "hop" up onto the sidewalk and continue my with my lightening fast voyage.

I pumped my legs faster, turned my bike toward the curb, pulled up on the front wheel and went sliding across the pavement with my body at break neck speed! Time slowed down and I started thinking, "How can I not get injured in this fall? Is it going to hurt my bike? Did I double-check my helmet strap? Is anyone watching this?" My speed steadily decreased with my body dragging my bike along the ground. I laid on the side of the road a bit dazed for a few moments listening for honks, cheers, jeers and whistles and when none came, I started doing a mental mind check of my body parts. Everything was tingling and on fire, but still moved on command - nothing was broken. As I pulled myself off of the pavement and onto the sidewalk I noticed that my slide across the cement had resulted in a tear in my favorite running pants and upon that realization I quickly grabbed my jacket to check for burn throughs. After all, it was the jacket to a DIFFERENT favorite outfit. Remarkably, it came out with minor damage around the cuff - much less damage to my jacket then to my elbow. *whew*

I stopped my watch timer. This TOTALLY didn't count on my time and I was NOT riding the rest of the way home.

Still in a state-of-shock after my crash, I called my husband and thanked the powers-that-be that he actually had his phone with him, it was on and most importantly, he answered it. I relayed my tale of speed, crash and burn to him and whimpered, "Please come get me."

Those were the longest ten minutes I'd ever waited. Blood dripped off the palm of my hand onto my bike and my elbow seeped blood and ooze down my forearm and into my favorite jacket. Along with that, I could feel blood trickling down my shin and as I looked down, I saw a bright red pool digging deep into my white socks. This had better wash out!

The ride home was also long and we laughed and joked about how helmets are for everyone and how there was no cool tale to go along with my road rash… No tale swerving to avoid some large-eyed puppy, jumping an impressive foreign object, out-biking a punk half my age, or making a daring evasive move while being chased by police. Heck - it was even my own bike!

All I got out of the bike crash is an impressive little road rash on my hands, right elbow, and a bit on my right knee and ankle. My required yoga class is going to be painful!

Thought I'd make your day sound a whole lot better.

My hand hurts.
My elbow hurts.
My knee hurts.
My ankle hurts.
My pride is wounded.