I find this new mishap to be ironic in a twisted, painful sort of way. Karen and both know enough to be thankful my injuries aren't worse; past experiences have made that clear too many times.
"What is he talking about?"
This morning I took a spectacular header while riding my bike to work. It was the sort of thing that would have been impressive to watch but no one was around and it was dark out. Well okay, there was this old guy who runs with another guy, early in the mornings. We sometimes pass each other on the deserted streets and exchange quick breathless pleasantries as we go our respective ways. If you want to know how I looked in mid-air, flying ass-over-teakettle, ask the old guy. In fact, if you find him, thank him for me. All I know is I experienced a sudden hard jolt and my bike took on a personality.that must be like what bull riders know just before they get stomped into smithereens by a ton and a half of wild rage. My flight might have been one of those things you see on YouTube and laugh at. Even the part where the guys lands all wonky and lies there, twisted and broken. Except I didn't get to say "Hold my beer and watch this!"
Due to street construction in town I have to make a detour across the grounds and parking lot of the old high school. The whole area was converted from pavement and sidewalks into a large flat field. It is used now by youth football for a practice field. My usual routine is to ride up the cut in the curb that used to be the entrance to parking lot, ride across the grass and get back on to the street leading to downtown and work. This morning, in the dark, with mist on my goggles I looked away for just a second and Wham! hit the curb at a great rate of speed and got to do a somersault with my bike on.
I think I landed on my left shoulder and rolled over, finally landing on my side. My feet had kind of twisted out of the toeclips and my bike lay across me. I pushed it off and lay there gasping for air. This is when the old guy came to see if I needed help.
I lay there a few moments just trying to get a breath. In my head I was trying to take a mental inventory of pain and injury. I knew I was a hurting unit but I had no clear idea what was wrong. Finally I sat up. The old guy steadied my bike for me and I stood up. My left arm wasn't working well and pushed kickstand down with my right hand. Then he and I walked over to the street.
"I was trying to hit the old driveway."
"You missed it by a couple of feet."
"I looked up and saw you and Bam!"
Then I had to sit down on the curb for a few minutes to clear my vision and try to catch my breath. Every breath hurt, my shoulder throbbed, my back ached. Movement sent sharp shooting pains through my arm. the kind of pain that takes your breath away. I didn't have any breath to spare.
"You going to be okay?"
"Yeah. I'll get to work and take some ibuprofen."
So I walked my bike across the playing field and onto the street. Trying to support my bike while walking was not fun so I tried riding again. Once I put the chain back on the chainring, life was better. Riding was easier than walking my bike. The bike, an old Schwinn mountain bike, was not damaged. Just mis-aligned the handlebars a bit. That would help explain the red rashes and bruises on my thighs.
I was only 15 minutes late to work. I told my partner "I'm f-d up." Then I took 800 mg of ibuprofen and made the call I should have made while lying on the playing field. Later, on the way to urgent care, Karen properly read me the riot act about not using my cell phone but truthfully I never even thought of it.
So, after seeing the Doc and getting x-rays I am told I have a shoulder separation and a crack in one rib. Some of the other ribs don't feel so great either, but they didn't take pics of them. After pain meds, an arm sling, a work restriction and a visit to the friendly chiropractor, I am home, resting, with ice, in the loving care of my patient and long suffering wife.
Stories like this open the victim (me) up to well meant jibes and friendly ridicule. I know that. It all comes with the territory. But here at Whiskey Jack Flats, we have been reading Eckhart Tolle lately and now I kind of wonder why I had this accident. Of course it was dark out and the mist blurred my vision a bit and I got distracted by the guy on the street and...
In The Power of Now, Tolle addresses our pain body. Without getting into the whole explanation here, I will just say that his opinion is that sometimes we attract accidents because our 'pain body' is hungry for attention, for energy. One of the ways to avoid the pain body or lessen its' negative effects is to be present; to be more conscious and aware. When we are exposed to something negative and we are not guarding ourselves by being present, our pain body will attract that negative energy and Bam! Maybe you hit a curb.
Karen and I have been working hard lately to be better people, to be more aware, more thankful, more present. And our work has been paying off. I have never felt happier or more in love than at this time in my life. But if life is so good, then, why the accident. Did my pain body hit me with a wake-up call and leave me gasping for air?
Even though my life has never been better I still do have things that bother me. We all do. Last night I had a visit from good old bad head for the first time in months. And now I am trying to type with one arm in a sling. Pain body or bad karma or just an old fool on a bike in the dark? Dunno. The result is the same. The lesson, if there is one, is to stay present; be mindful and aware and try to keep the good ju-ju flowing. Life can't help but be better if you do at least that much.
Peace and love to you all. Thanks for all the messages of love and support. I will try to pass that energy on.
Mike
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