One of the joys of aging is coming to terms with the inability to quite do all things I used to, or at least the way I did them.
I'm not referring to the blatantly obvious. I know that I'll never rock climb, ski a black run, or hike in deep backcountry where I wouldn't see another person for the entire week. Those things fall under the category of "get it while you can".
Then there's the marginal things that become realizations when confronted with. Things like wanting to get out on the dance floor, but knowing to stay in my lane. Setting up to hit a golf shot that I'll never have the strength to hit again. The things that are straight out of the Little Feat song "Old Folks Boogie":
"And you know that you're over the hill
When your mind makes a promise that your body can't fill"
No, I'm talking about the things for which I'm only mildly diminished, but not incapable. At least until things go awry. I approach those with a level of caution that's build around the fact that it will likely take me longer to recover, and that some damage may be permanent.
Which leads me into my bicycle accident today.
I was peddling along a normally spaced street where there's reasonable room for cars to pass, but no bike lane. In instances like these, I will ride in the gutter along the curb to add a margin of safety. This is often just fine, but every once in a while the gutter had excess debris, of has a damaged surface which could cause trouble if I rode over them.
And that was the case today. I saw an upcoming segment with terribly damaged concrete. My mind rifled through options. The best was to veer out of the gutter, but not so much that I risked contact with vehicles. A second choice was to come to a stop, walk my bicycle over or around the damage, then proceed. The last option that was quickly discarded in this case was to ride over the disturbed gutter, for it was just too risky.
I rapidly selected option one, looked over to ensure there were no cars there, and proceeded. Everything went as planned until a fast-moving vehicle appeared alongside me and way too close. I was passing the disturbed segment when this happened, and chose to return to the gutter, which should have been safe.
Except it wasn't. There was an irregular, rutted gap in the concrete. My front tire lodged in it, causing the entire bike to wobble almost uncontrollably. I kept applying the brakes, slow enough to not risk toppling over the handlebars as I had ten years ago. I was also making damn sure that I didn't fall into traffic.
Upcoming on my "safe side" was a petrol station driveway. With bicycle still wobbling uncontrollably, I veered up it, slowing all the way, That's where my options went away, and I was left with slowly entering a curb-bordered planter box with protective concrete poles on both side. The impact and slow collapse onto my right side caused the left handlebar to plant itself very firmly into my upper left chest and armpit, creating a bruise that will linger for a time.
I laid there for a minute or two, listening to my body tell me where else it was scraped or impacted. (I also looked around to ensure no one was capturing it to put on TikTok.) A couple of people approached to make sure I was okay, which I generally was. When I got home few minutes later, I made an assessment of the damage.
deep left chest bruise
Some surfaces scratches on my right ankle, where I rubbed up against a pedal
Some back & hip soreness
All in all, fairly benign results from something that could have been worse. And a recalibration of where my reaction abilities were. A fairly painless learning experience that won't keep me from riding again, but will create learned caution for that stretch of raod and the need to look further next time.
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