the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

but I'm ok.

Biking from Zsa Zsa's house* in Broomfield to the University of Colorado at Boulder takes roughly one hour and fifteen minutes. It's a touch over 16 miles one way. I figure the whole schmiel comes to about the same amount of effort I would expend running five miles, so it isn't really a big deal to me. Plus, it's nice to wake up to a ride in, the scenery is wonderful, and I seem to focus better in class, too. All in all, I've been happy getting this much exercise. It's almost like old times, it is.

* She's the American pit bull (mix) who runs the Lisarea and Russell abode. Here she is, keeping my feet warm while I "study." Some things, though, are just so adorable that you can't concentrate. (It didn't help that I was trying to decipher a piece about cosmopolitanist criticism and modernist somethingsomething literary crit.)

So I've decided that, weather willing, I'll ride to school and back Tuesday through Thursday for my weekly exercise (I'm generally buried in books Friday through Monday). I've been doing well, but then I flubbed up today. I allowed myself to get cocky, see. I've apparently been functioning under the illusion that I can keep my balance on two wheels when in motion.

So this morning, I was listening to Pandora on my phone and trucking along in the brisk morning air (something like 31 degrees, which is downright balmy compared to the temps about three weeks ago when I started doing this ride). It was so "warm," as a matter of fact, that I'd foregone my skullcap in lieu of ear warmers, because the ride gets me so warm that my hair gets sweaty.

Anyway. I was on one of the two short bits of road on my route that are less than ideal.* This bit (only about a tenth of a mile, I think) has no shoulders and a fairly high traffic volume. I normally try to get through it as quickly as I can. My speed was not the problem, as it turns out; my problem was riding too close to the edge of the road.

* "Ideal" includes the following: shoulder or bike lane, low speed limits, and/or low traffic volume.

This road, like most like it in Colorado, has a white line along the edge, which is normally 8 to 12 inches away. Then there's a washed out rut about 4 inches wide and 6+ inches deep.

You see what's coming, don't you?

Yeah. I didn't get hit. There's really no excuse, except that my concentration wavered for a split second and I hit that rut. Doing 30mph. And the bike and I went head over keister.

I got up, grabbed the bike and pulled it off the road, then did a function check while traffic stopped both ways. The gentleman right behind me pulled over, told me he was a member of the fire department, and did I need any help? I said, "I don't know. I think I'm okay." He pulled over on the side of the road just in front of me and reported my spill on his walkie-talkie while I flexed joints and checked for damage (on both myself and the bike).

I was pretty okay, I figured. I was bundled for the winter ride (including the helmet, thick leggings, and the sweet pair of heavy-duty cold weather lined leather gloves the Air Force issued me for Iraq (?!), so that saved me some road rash, no doubt. But I think I can thank all those years of martial arts training for the fact that I hit the ground rolling and thus avoided joint damage or broken bones.

I told the nice man that my knee felt a little bunged, but it seemed okay. If I got further along and decided I needed medical help, I'd call, and thanks again for being a gentleman. He drove off.

I was kinda annoyed that the cord for my headphones had snapped in the wreck. The ride is so much nicer when I have some lively tunes. Otherwise, though, the bike was ridable.

I rode the rest of the way to school (about 14 miles, I guess), stopping only to buy a new set of earbuds at Radio Shack. Once at school, I stepped into a bathroom to change into jeans and such, at which point I discovered that my knee  was swelling a bit and had a couple of gashes on it. This is most odd, considering that my leggings were fine (?). I didn't have anything to clean it with, so I finished changing and went to the student union for some foodstuffs.

By the time I finished eating, my knee was a bit stiffer, so I thought it might be a good idea to stop in at the clinic and get it cleaned and bandaged. This idea seemed simple and straightforward enough, right? RIGHT?

That was a few minutes after noon.

It turns out that the school clinic is a hospital proper. I had to answer a bunch of unrelated questions to check in, then I waited about 20 minutes to be fetched to a doctor's office, where a med tech checked my vitals and asked me all the questions I'd just answered on the forms (so now I know this craziness isn't limited to the military). Then someone relayed me to another office where I sat on an exam table for a while, playing with my android and wondering how long all this was going to take. By this time, it was 1pm, which is when my class starts.

The doc came in and mashed on my knee here and there and ascertained that it was no only swollen, but bruised as well (because it hurt). She wanted to take some X-rays, too, particularly since I'd had knee surgery on it recently. They put me in a huge pair of shorts like basketball players--or "gangstas"--wear so my knee was exposed in all its edemic beauty. (BTW, I now understand why people wear shorts like that. They're incredibly comfortable.)

Anyway. After the first round of X-rays, she wanted to take another because one part of my patella looked odd. Then a nurse came in and gave me a tetanus shot.

* Ooooh. Cool thing: Just before she gave me the shot, she said, "Wiggle the toes on your left foot." I did and the shot was overwith. I never felt it. She said it's based on how the brain processes pain, and redirecting the patient to do something so simple distracts them so they don't feel the prick. Neat, huh? Try it next time you have to get stuck.

Then I got an ice pack and a couple of Advil to help with the swelling. The doc came back in and said the last X-ray had come up clean, and she sent in another med tech to clean and dress the wound. I got back into my britches and went to class in the snow (which had started about an hour into my doc visit).

I got to class at almost 3pm. Class ended at 3:30. :( I'm not happy with this as all. This is British literature we're talking about. I lovelovelove it. If I were to pick a class I didn't want to go to, this would be last on the list.

I'd decided to catch a bus back to Broomfield instead of trying to ride home in the snow, which was starting to stick. I did try to ride to the bus stop, though, and halfway there I hit some snow that was sticking and landed hard on my right thigh.

Ow. That's going to be a nice bruise, too.

I walked the rest of the way to the bus stop, needless to say.

And thanks to the fact that it's snowing everywhere in Colorado right now and parts of I-25 are expected to be whiteouts tonight, along with the usual Denver rush hour traffic combined with the fact that the president is there or just left, and (if I may superstitiously say) I just don't seem to be having a good day, I'm staying with Lisarea and Russell tonight.

Oh. About the bike... The derailleur is fine, thank heavens, but I seem to have warped one of the wheels (maybe both) when I hit that rut. I don't know if it can be corrected by adjusting the tension of the spokes or if I'll just need a new wheel. I'll take it to the bike doc sometime in the next four days.

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