Week Twenty-One - Day Three: Damages

BIKE: Mike
TIME THERE: 29 min.
TIME BACK: 28 min.
WEATHER: overcast, -13C, 7km/hr wind there; overcast, -10C (-16C with wind chill), 11km/hr wind back.
WHAT I WORE: warm-up pants, turtleneck, waterproof shell, lobster gloves, balaclava
NOTES:
A fine mist descended on my fair city this morning, causing a light layer of frost to develop over everything. It enveloped the scenery in a mysterious, eerie beauty. It also caused the roadways to be just a little bit slicker today. This didn't have much bearing on my commute - and I'm thankful for that! - though it may have been a contributing factor to my sixth bike-commuting fall, which occurred on my way to work this morning.

I was already on campus, so my ride was nearly over. Just having come up the High Level Bridge hill and walked Mike up the stairs onto campus, I started rolling along on the sidewalk heading towards the parking lots on the eastern edge of the campus. Just as I began picking up speed, I noticed that I was coming up behind a pedestrian who was walking in the middle of the sidewalk. I rang my bell, though I wasn't sure if he heard me, so I started slowing down so I wouldn't crash into him as I tried to ring the bell again. Just as I began braking, the back tire hit a patch of ice so that when I hit the brakes the front wheel slowed down but the back wheel didn't. This made the bike skid sideways and I was thrown to the ground. The sound of me hitting the concrete (and, knowing me, probably saying, "Fuck!") got the pedestrian's attention, and he turned around with what looked like an expression of horror and asked if I was okay. When he turned around, I thought I recognized him as an esteemed professor in my department. Ugggghhhh. Embarrassed, I quickly hopped to my feet, said I was fine, and immediately got back on the bike so I could pedal past him and pretend it never happened.

During the remaining short ride from there to my building, I did a mental scan of my body to check for injuries. Remarkably, just about nothing was sore. Not my hip or shoulder that hit the ground, not the leg where I now have a decent-sized tear in my pants, not my neck from the strain of ensuring my head didn't hit the ground. The only thing that seemed worse for wear were the heels of my hands, which felt bruised and tender, but that was it. I breathed a sigh of relief that I've made it this far, and that I've fallen as much as I have, while garnering no serious injuries. That's incredible! Six falls in five months of commuting, and the worst injury I've received has been a sprained finger (which, by the way, is still healing several weeks later). At this point, falling doesn't even seem like that big a deal! It doesn't even hurt! Not that I like falling, mind you, but it just seems a whole lot less scary than it did when I first started. Then again, if it were the summer and I were in shorts and a t-shirt, that might be a whole different story - but without ice, it is my sincerest hope that I won't be falling anymore!

The tear in my warm-up pants.



The bruises on the heels of my hands.