A note: July is the month of the tour. Or, Le Tour, if you're French. It is a month of increased interest in cycling, and I am no different. My resurgent interest in riding my bike didn't come because of Le Tour, but because of a some major life changes. When I started writing this, I didn't look at the last post I put up here, but I'm pretty sure that it was before my life made some pretty big changes, and those changes turned out to be temporary. I can now focus on doing the things I want to do, and I am happy about that. And no, I didn't get married and/or divorced; I was engaged in something that required a similar level of dedication though.
Anyway, on to what I actually want to write about. Pretend like you just started reading here .....
Huh.
That's what I thought when I went ass-over-teakettle on Wednesday. The rider in front of me managed the sandy, dropping section pretty well. I figured I could ride it as well because "Anything you can do ..." Turns out that I'm not as good a rider as the guy that was in front of me.
I stuffed the the front wheel of my Jamis into the sand, and over I went. I landed in a slow-motion awkward sort of way in the soft sand, and immediately looked around to see if anyone was witness to my acrobatics. Plenty were. No problem, though; it's not the first time, and it won't be the last.
Huh. The front tire is low. Oh, the front is going flat. Oh, the front is totally flat. I'm crashing. Roll, roll, roll!!!!!
That's what I thought when I crashed yesterday. The jury is still out as to whether I've done permanent damage, but I know that my body hurts. A lot. Specifically, my right knee is really not doing well, which is unfortunate because just a few weeks ago I cut it up pretty good in a similar yet less-rolly manner.
I've crashed on a mountain bike more times that I care to count, and on a BMX far more than that. I've twisted, sprained, bruised, cut, concussed, and broken rather a lot of different parts. That probably explains why I'm not yet 30 years old, and I sometimes have trouble getting out of bed. It also explains why my past is way cooler than yours.
The long-and-short of it, however, is that I've learned how to crash with some sort of grace. I pride myself on my ability to crash. I know it's not something to be proud of, but I certainly am. That's why yesterday hit so hard (Pun intended.)
Today, my whole body hurts. The muscles on both sides of my neck are sore from the immediate need for them to steady my head as it was thrashed about by the ground. My shoulders both hurt from impact, and my abs are sore from trying to keep my innards together. My chest, lats, and back are even sore. These are the muscles that are sore, and not the joints, mind you. These pains are from my body trying to hold itself together under a traumatic event.
For every crash I've ever been in, and for every bit of practice, it seems that sometimes the biking gods will show you who's the bitch.
Yesterday, I was the bitch. Fortunately, that gives me time to get caught up on other things before I get back on the bike in a day or two. Like writing this blog. maybe I'll make it a habit again.
Anyway, on to what I actually want to write about. Pretend like you just started reading here .....
Huh.
That's what I thought when I went ass-over-teakettle on Wednesday. The rider in front of me managed the sandy, dropping section pretty well. I figured I could ride it as well because "Anything you can do ..." Turns out that I'm not as good a rider as the guy that was in front of me.
I stuffed the the front wheel of my Jamis into the sand, and over I went. I landed in a slow-motion awkward sort of way in the soft sand, and immediately looked around to see if anyone was witness to my acrobatics. Plenty were. No problem, though; it's not the first time, and it won't be the last.
Huh. The front tire is low. Oh, the front is going flat. Oh, the front is totally flat. I'm crashing. Roll, roll, roll!!!!!
That's what I thought when I crashed yesterday. The jury is still out as to whether I've done permanent damage, but I know that my body hurts. A lot. Specifically, my right knee is really not doing well, which is unfortunate because just a few weeks ago I cut it up pretty good in a similar yet less-rolly manner.
I've crashed on a mountain bike more times that I care to count, and on a BMX far more than that. I've twisted, sprained, bruised, cut, concussed, and broken rather a lot of different parts. That probably explains why I'm not yet 30 years old, and I sometimes have trouble getting out of bed. It also explains why my past is way cooler than yours.
The long-and-short of it, however, is that I've learned how to crash with some sort of grace. I pride myself on my ability to crash. I know it's not something to be proud of, but I certainly am. That's why yesterday hit so hard (Pun intended.)
Today, my whole body hurts. The muscles on both sides of my neck are sore from the immediate need for them to steady my head as it was thrashed about by the ground. My shoulders both hurt from impact, and my abs are sore from trying to keep my innards together. My chest, lats, and back are even sore. These are the muscles that are sore, and not the joints, mind you. These pains are from my body trying to hold itself together under a traumatic event.
For every crash I've ever been in, and for every bit of practice, it seems that sometimes the biking gods will show you who's the bitch.
Yesterday, I was the bitch. Fortunately, that gives me time to get caught up on other things before I get back on the bike in a day or two. Like writing this blog. maybe I'll make it a habit again.
