rite of initiation

Well, despite all the flowery language of my last post, the romance was short lived.  I still love my bike, and I plan on going for a ride on it at least once a week, but we've had a time, me and my bike.  Here's a little flavor for you:

Sadly, this knee is mine--my very own gory glory.  Mr. Bump and I went for what ended up being a 22 mile bike ride up in Loveland this weekend, and I suppose fortunately for me, this happened at about mile 21.  I was tired.  There was a curb that should have been low enough to mount onto the bike path.  But it was a little too high. I was too tired. And I was probably going too fast.  My front wheel made it ok, but the back one managed to not quite make it up onto the curb, and proceeded to slide along past the curb's lowest point.  Much chaotic wavering insued, followed by my ejection from the bike. I (thankfully) hit the dirt on the other side of the bike path, but I (unfortunately) did so with the side of my face and my right wrist.  My knee drug along behind me on the concrete. Hence the nasty scrape.  Honestly, I was really, really lucky, and this is why:

1) I was wearing a helmet.
2) My head hit dirt instead of concrete.
3) I didn't totally trash my new bike. 

There were a few scrapes along one fender, and one of the pedals has changed its shape on the end, but Mr. Bump had already ordered new pedals for it anyway, so I'm not too bothered. 

Here's what I learned from this experience.  Always, always wear a helmet. Gloves help too so you don't get your palms all scraped up.  Slow down.  Seriously.  And when you're tired, bear that in mind because your reflexes might not be as you would wish them to be. 

Mr. Bump assured me that this kind of thing could happen to even the most experienced rider, and he's definitely come home from his normal commute with road rash on knee, elbow and shoulder.

The other thing I discovered is how much my thought processes have changed over the last few years.  My first thought was "ooh, I smacked my head really hard there." Second was, "Shit, I have a 12 mile run to do with this scraped knee tomorrow." And third was "my bike!  How's my bike?" 

Two years ago I wouldn't have gotten right back on that bike and ridden it the 1.5 miles we had left on our ride. Two years ago there would have been no way I would have gone for any run, let alone a 12 mile one.  But I got back on the bike, and yesterday I ran, and it was fine.  It probably even helped work out some of the soreness.

However, there remains quite a bit of soreness, today.  My right arm would really prefer not to go over my head. And I don't think I broke my wrist, but it hurts like the dickens nonetheless. 

But I broke my bike in, and myself as a cyclist.  I haven't had a skinned knee since I was younger than 12.