Ballad of a Bumbling Bicycler
As part of our upcoming sustainability project and in an effort to both reduce my carbon footprint and the size of my rumpus, I decided to go for a bike ride with my buddy, Lisa. As I’m a fairly decent runner and swimmer, I had dreams of triathalon glory if only I could remaster the fine art of cycling in the open air. I had thoughts of all the money I’d save, being able to leave the Prius in the driveway and cycle over to the farmer’s market, but first I had to stay upright.
So one fine Sunday morning in July, we unloaded our bikes on the Sammamish River Trail near Woodinville. Lisa, looking the part of an experienced cycler in appropriate gear on a well put together bike, and me on David’s old bike, too big, with a seat that kept twisting itself off to one side. After figuring out just how to get my leg over the “male” bar, balance, and take off, we rode along at a slow speed for a couple of mile.Then we hit a curve and I hit the grass, left hand first. Yowie! After a few minutes of howling and jumping up and down, we continued our ride for a couple of mile more, until my left wrist began to swell and change colors. We decided to head back.
All was going slow and well until we hit the dragonfly bridge underpass near the winery. Here, the trail has a sharp little curve combined with a quick vertical dip. That combined with a sweet little old lady walking on the trail caused me to crash! The decision became whether to take out the lady or attempt to do so with one of the concrete pillars of the bridge. I took neither, opting instead to down the bike hard on the pavement, again with the left wrist hitting the pavement first, followed by the left shoulder, and the bike then slamming the pillar. The lady was spared. The bike and cyclist were not. My wrist was now really beginning to swell and purple and the bike chain had cut a serpentine track across my lower right leg that was dripping copious amounts of blood onto my sneakers.
So on that fine Sunday morning in July, we reloaded our bikes and headed to Evergreen ER. After X-rays, not broken, and a fiberglass splint, sprained wrist, I headed home to clean up my leg and ice up my wrist. But by the next day my hand was very purply, swollen like a lemon, and my wrist felt hot and itchy. After a trip to my doc’s office, I found I was allergic to the fiberglass. The splint was replaced with a neoprene one.
After many, many ice packs and several weeks, most of the wrist began to feel better, but the shoulder did not. The large bruise from the initial impact faded, and I thought perhaps it was just stiff from elevating and protecting the left wrist. I tried swimming to loosen it up. The breast stoke felt fine. The freestyle (crawl) was okay as long as I didn’t rotate the left arm too much, but then I attempted the backstroke. I thought I was going to die, drown right there in four feet of YMCA pool water!
After another trip to the doctor and a physical therapy evaluation, I’ve learned I may have damaged my rotator cuff in the left shoulder. I can’t raise the arm higher than shoulder level laterally or straight vertically or back. Now, I have two PT appointments weekly and am scheduled for an MRI on my wrist and shoulder next Friday.
I now believe the medical costs of my cycling endeavor far outweighs the potential gasoline cost savings. Ari says I need a girly bike with no “male” bar and upright handlebars so I can see where I’m going. Alex is offering me his old training wheels, and Anni says I can have her tricycle. David is still laughing!
In other news, while in the changing room of the pool today, a tiny trapped frog hopped on Anni. She screached and flung it my way. I caught it, and it is now a happy hopper in the garden patch.
The other hopper in the family is David. He's star hopping with Alex in the back yard tonight after putting together the telescope this afternoon (thanks Lisa). Are there supposed to be left over parts?
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