Bike v. World

Today was the second day I biked to work, and also the second day I sustained a bike-related injury. I know that I’m Klutzy McFallsalot, but this is pretty bad luck.

I followed up last Friday’s twisted ankle with some good old fashioned flesh wounds. While trying (also for the second time) to find Company’s parking garage, my bike—I call her Gertrude—got stuck in a railroad track. She stopped; I didn’t. I skidded along the pavement on my right side, resulting in a gritty mess of skinned hands, elbows, and thighs. I don’t think I’ve skinned an elbow since I was nine or 10—it hurts!

Perhaps the lesson to be learned is to stick with nonvehicular exercise. As my friend Carol says, “biking is a full-on contact sport. It’s bike vs. world.” Yeah. World: 2, Gertrude: 0.

(I did finally find the parking garage, but only after three different people gave me the grand tour (because the spill wasn’t embarrassing enough? Now I’m going to go down in Company history as “that girl who couldn’t even find the parking garage!”).)

* * *

current book: On Beauty. Still wonderful.

current music: The sound of my own bitching all day.

current socks: Green sandals; but I was wearing athletic socks and shoes on the ride in the morning, so I can’t blame unstable shoes for my own clumsiness or for Gertrude’s inability to negotiate railroad tracks.