I love riding my bicycle… feels like flying sometimes. I’ve got a pretty cool bike, too. Carbon fiber forks, racing seat, decent Shimano derailers, etc. I also have the gear… you know stretchy pants with the puffy butt padding, cycling jerseys, low drag helmet, speedometer that also calculates calories burned and back in December, as a Christmas present to me… I bought cycling shoes, cleatsfor the shoes and pedals. I’ve never ridden with a clipless pedal system but I’ve heard they can increase your speed and efficiency on the bike.
Well we’ve had a pretty mild winter here in Texas but for a lack of time or not feeling up to it or just plain laziness, I just haven’t had the chance to ride and test ’em out. But this past weekend I was able to take advantage of some warm weather and knew I would be able to get at least an hour’s worth of good riding in.
So, I clip in, head down the driveway and I’m off. But Adam, my stoner neighbor and his buddies are outside.
“Joooooles! Heyyyy mannnn. Where ya been?”
I’m thinking it would be rude to just wave and keep going cuz i haven’t really said hi or anything to these guys in weeks… maybe months.
So I slow down heading towards his driveway. I try to pull my foot off the pedal but it isn’t coming off. And why?… it’s not supposed to come off because I’M CLIPPED IN!! And as I slow down even more my mind races trying to comprehend why it is my foot won’t come off the pedal. Please recall… i’ve never ridden with things like this before. The guys are watching, standing up to come over and say hi, and it all seems to start moving in slow motion as I come…
to a dead…
And then fall… right over.
“Whoah! duuuude! You okayyyy?”
“oh yeah, [Deist says slowly trying to get up and grunting a little] I’m fine.”
“Wow… that was pretty heinous. Sure you’re okay?”
“oh yeah, it’s nothing just a little scrape.”
Then Adam says, “well it looks pretty bad. But hey… (he begins to chuckle a little) at least you did that in front of us instead a couple of good lookin girls, right.” His buddies enthusiastically concur raising their beers and take a drink.
And so there I am trying to stand myself back up… looking at the blood trickling out of my knee, a little dazed from bonking my head against his van’s bumper and I think, “maybe my man Adam has a point.”
So… I think the lesson here from the stoners is: scars heal and fade. Emotional trauma is prone to last a lot longer with heavier effects when it involves the opposite sex. Good thing the good looking neighbor girl wasn’t outside at the time. At least I dodged that bullet.