defining experiences

Today is the end of 2008, my 38th year (sort of, as I have three more months in this age) and the end of a year I will not miss. It wasn't a horrific year by any means, but it had its challenges and not the kind I personally like to tackle. I had heartache this year, disappointment, realizations (about things I'd have rather stayed blissfully unaware of), self doubts and personal losses. I still have my job, a great little apartment to live in, wonderful friends, loving (healthy) family and my own good health (phew!) even if I'm more padded around the middle than I'd care to be. I've been fortunate this past year in many respects and I know that, appreciate what I have and am grateful. But I have not been happy, something I cannot deny.

Last night, I planned to have a "Happy New Year" entry ready, something positive, upbeat and comical, to post this morning, but no matter how I tried writing it, it read like what one of those crappy infomercial scripts might read like - phony, stilted and, well...not like me at all. I can't peddle false glee for the life of me, it's just not in my nature. So, I deleted that happy entry and went to bed, tossing and turning in the wee morning hours, thinking through several things I'd thought I'd let go of recently. It didn't help that yesterday I was again annoyed by the behavior of a group of dingbats or that again someone blew smoke so far up my ass, it puffed out my ears. Nothing major, just an annoyance, and on the eve of the eve of the new year, a reminder to me of why 2008 stank like a bowl of raw, rotting cabbage (and I'm not talking Kimchi here). I'm so very happy that 2009 is finally here and 2008 is over.

Okay...with all of my above pessimism now out of the way, I would like to genuinely reflect on last year. I can't go through a litany of the many 'learning' experiences I had throughout all twelve months without making this a long(er) (more) drawn out entry, so I have decided to pick just two defining experiences of 2008, two moments when I either thought, "oh, shit" or "oh, yippee!" to the fullest, and both of them were...can you believe it?...on.a.bike.

I will start with the first experience, the "Oh, shit!" one - my bike accident in Ojai on January 19th:

In a nutshell, my body hit asphalt at a speed of upwards of 16mph (more likely 20mph given the whole gravity and forward projection thing). I was riding on the Ojai bike path, enjoying the glorious, chilly winter day with a mixed group of (still) friends and (then) friends when my front wheel ran over a chunk of loose asphalt that had crumbled from the side of the bike path and worked it's way into the middle where, to my dismay, it stumped my wheel. The wheel collapsed left, out from under me, and in a split second my body flew right (still attached to the bike by my pedal cleats) and smack down harder than I've ever landed in my life. I had no chance to react and didn't even throw my arm out to protect my face. My right forearm, shoulder and head took the brunt of my fall and the wind was knocked clear out of me. Patsy was unharmed except for a few scratches on her derailleur and brifters, thank goodness, as my body protected her frame.

I don't remember the impact and was told I was knocked unconscious for a few seconds, but I do remember struggling to sit up, not being able to breathe and gasping, frightened and desperate, to take in air. The brunt force of my fall had knocked all the oxygen out of my lungs. As I finally began breathing normal again, it was immediately obvious that my shoulder was not what it had been moments before the fall, and a hematoma the size of a small cantaloupe instantly formed on my forearm between my wrist and elbow.




Later in the emergency room, the very attractive female doctor (she could have been cast on ER she was so striking) informed me that my camera, which I had tucked in my jacket sleeve (the way I have always carried the camera when wearing long sleeves), protected my elbow from real injury and had caused this hematoma. She was certain that, had I not had that camera there, I would have shattered my elbow into many pieces (something that is apparently quite common in these types of bike crashes). She was also surprised I didn't do worse damage to my shoulder, but luckily it was just a small ligament strain (that a week later, my primary physician upgraded to a torn ligament). But what was so surprising about my injuries was my utter lack of brain damage. Seriously - they ran a cat scan at the hospital, and although it can be argued whether I'm normal or not, my brain was not injured in the least in the crash even though my head bounced on asphalt that day. Why? Because I was wearing a helmet, of course, and I still have that helmet, cracked all the way through with a pebble embedded in it as a reminder.

If you are reading this and are not a cyclist but are thinking of taking up this sport, I will tell you now, buy the helmet first and then the bike; and don't ever think it won't happen to you and go riding with your pretty hair in the wind, cause it can and does happen, usually when you least expect it. That doctor in Ojai looked me right in the eyes when she said, "It's a pity really; most of the bike accidents I see are those where the injured weren't wearing helmets. They aren't as lucky as you. Many of them never leave the emergency room." (that's about verbatim)

That bike accident was my first serious one on a road bike and I truly hope my last. I was lucky as my injuries were minimal, although it took six weeks for my shoulder to heal, and during that time, I could not ride my bike. Might as well chain me to a fence and whip me with a coat hanger if I can't ride Patsy. I was miserable. I was also in pain (that's when I scored those happy pills that I still have a supply of, the ones that make me drool). Did I learn from this experience? No. I already knew that body slamming concrete would hurt...hello? I also already knew that bodily injury could keep me off my bike. Since I do not see positives in all experiences (like those folks who walk around saying 'you learn from every experience' like self-help gurus), I believe there are some better left not having, and in 2008 this would have been the one I'd have forfeited over all others. Here's hoping for an '09 with no bike accidents for me or my friends, or hell, for anyone for that matter! Keep the rubber side down, folks!

Now...defining experience number two, the "oh, yippee!" and then some:

This year I did something I haven't done since I was a child, I rode a bike with my dad. At some point (not in this entry), I will tell the story of how I almost lost my foot as a child. It involved a bike and Dad (and he will, I'm sure, hope that I not tell that story even though it was not his fault). I healed, clearly, kept my foot and went on to ride a bike as a child, a 3-speeder that Dad bought for me and taught me to ride, and now, as you well know, a road bike as an adult.

In fact, I've been riding a road bike for nearly five years; first Fred, my Trek 1000 that I bought for myself, and then Patsy, my Trek 1500 that Dad bought me for my birthday in 2006. I love cycling and as I do on here, I talk it up to anyone and everyone, including my dear dad. Well, a little over a year ago, after his hip replacement surgery, Dad decided to buy himself a bike, first a Trek Hybrid and then a Trek road bike, one he calls Sweet 16. To say he took up cycling because of me would be stretching it a bit, but I was certainly a huge influence. It kind of scares me that he rides (I worry since he is blind in his left eye and missing much needed peripheral vision on the side where cars pass by him within inches) but I've gotten use to it since I rode with him this year in TN.

Here is how it happened. Dad asked me last April when I was coming home for the summer (I usually visit home every 4th of July for a week and attend a family reunion so that I can see everyone at one time) and if I'd be willing to arrive a week early to ride the Tour de Corn with him. I hemmed and hawed and even snapped at him, "I never take a vacation, Dad, except to go visit family. For once in my life, I'd like to do what I want to do!" I hurt his feelings although he'd never cop to it. I then talked to Mom and complained (out of guilt) that Dad was pressuring me. My mother, ever the wiser, said, "well, he just wants to ride with you, you know, and this was his way of trying to make you happy." Gulp. I hadn't thought of that in my self-absorbed fit over wanting 'me time,' and I stopped to ponder actually riding with Dad as a grown up, showing him a thing or two in lieu of him being the coach. I called him up (this was about a week after he'd asked) and told him I would come home in time to ride TDC with him.

He was so excited, I could hear it in his voice, and again in an effort to make me happy, he offered to buy me a brand spanking new Trek road bike to use when I'm home visiting. Oh, good grief! I couldn't allow that. My dad does well for himself, but he isn't made of money (and I worry for his retirement and future), so I beat him to the punch and found a used Lemond (Lyleluvit) for $225 through Craigslist in Clarksville. Dad went out to retrieve it and haggled the gal down to $200. He then brought the bike home for me, dusted it off and put a set of Shimano pedals on it, the exact pedals I use. This was when he bought himself Sweet 16- after all, if I was going to be riding a road bike at the TDC, he would be too. I dig Lyleluvit, as that bike is made of steel. I've only ever ridden aluminum and I could tell the difference right away. The frame is a tad heavier than Patsy's frame is, but the ride is so much smoother.

On June 29th, Dad and I rode Tour de Corn in Missouri with a mutual friend (from a bike forum), his wife and daughter. It was truly an amazing experience riding with Dad and my friend and his family, one I will never forget. The roads in Missouri are flat, and the day we rode there were clouds threatening to dump rain the whole time, but we finished well before it did. Oh, and at all the rest stops they served the sweetest corn on the cob I think I've ever tasted, buttered and salted as you pleased. For the occasion, I bought Dad and me matching jerseys so that we could be 'Team Monkey."

Although he is 31 years my senior, he had no problem keeping up with me. He also did just fine riding with only having sight in one eye (he has his bike rigged up with a couple of rear view mirrors that work wonders). And who knew that only a short time after having his hip replaced that he could be so athletic and capable? Goes to show what determination and pure grit will get you. I knew this about my father already, of course, and I like to think that I have that in me as well. Riding with him in July just helped illustrate that for me. Of all the experiences in the last year that I would repeat in a heartbeat, that I learned so much from, about myself and about my father (who knew that riding with him would strengthen our father-daughter friendship so much?), and one I'll never forget.

We rode in Missouri and then a couple of times in Clarksville together, including his first 40 miles out to Cheatam Dam, on country roads that I had only ever driven before last summer.

I took so many pics of the beauty in the country and, in fact, the header photo that I use for this blog is from one of those rides. That image captures my spirit in so many ways, with the blend of where I'm from, what I love to do and where I'm (hopefully) headed - down a long, open road with many opportunities, adventures and good challenges just over the hill.

There you go...2008 summed up in "oh, shit" and "oh, yippee!"

I'm hoping for much much more "yippeeing!" in 2009 for everyone, our country and the world in general. The wheels of change have already been set in motion and change is what we all need. Most importantly, we just need to stay on the road and keep pedaling ahead. Speaking of, I'll be out doing just that tomorrow, riding my bicycle on January 1, 2009...

...happy new year.