I came off my bike and got really banged up.
It’s unfortunately symbolic of a lot of stuff thats been happening to me of late despite what I feel to be good faith efforts on my part to be the protagonist in my life.
Sometime between 5.30am and 6 I was cycling through the Turkey farm.
It’s one of several lovely morning loops around semi-rural norfolk. They have made for a great start to my summer days of late, and break up my usual prison exercise routines of indoor weights or press ups or yoga. See what admirable care I take of myself? Up early each morning to get endorphins flowing and be all productive or mentally healthy or whatever.
What a crock.
Really though, it feels like it helps.
The light’s great, the traffic is light or non-existent and it’s pretty nice. I can’t even remember if it was the birth of my first child or just general living and working remote - but I got it in my head that I couldn’t justify the time going to and from a gym. I wonder how many folks I’ve failed to meet because of that?
Anyway, I’m coming through the turkey farm, standing on my pedals, coasting along with just enough pace to hop some little speed bumps when whaam - I’m on the ground. Instantly. Like a jump cut in a film. Landed on the concrete gravel path. No warning. No time for evasive anything. Just down. Knees, wrists, hands, elbow, chest, and just a touch of face. One instant I was coasting, next I was on the ground. ‘Oh god’ I cried, ‘oh god’. To whom? God I guess.
Immediately he sent me two turkey farm workers.
They rushed out of a shed. Working already. They heard the crash. No help. They didn’t touch me. They didnt ask if I was OK. Perhaps I was very quick to get to my feet, to reassure them. They just happened to be there and I guess that was nicer than being totally alone but it feels like a technical distinction. One of them did pick up my bike and tell me that the wheel had fallen off. Then they went back into the shed to do whatever they were doing before I interrupted their routine. I felt so alone. I feel so alone. I picked up my bike, got the wheel back on and cycled home.
I had no mobile phone cos I wanted to get away from my phone for half a fucking hour of my day. Won’t do that again. Imagine if I was in the middle of nowhere (I was) with no one around and worse injuries (must have been close)? I wore no helmet and there is no reason not to wear a helmet except I don’t have one and/because I just really appreciate that it’s not mandatory here like it is in New Zealand. I just pedal around slowly with a helmeted child on the back from time to time and I am sick and tired of being constantly mandated to do things that are in my own best interests. But anyway, I will now buy a helmet and store it in my shed and remember to wear it for my five minutes each way school runs and these slightly longer rambles even though wrist guards and gloves and long trousers would have been most useful in my particular situation.
I got home and reported my accident to my family.
The main sense was whew, that could have been worse: broken kneecaps, arm, ribs, wrists, skull. Days in hospital and bed. Holidays postponed.
OK. It could have been worse. But it was still bad. I’m really sore. I’m shaken. I bled all over my duvet. The blood seeped through my trousers later that day in an embarrassing way that people couldn’t help but remark on. So I had to tell my tale and thank them for their knee jerk sympathy. For the whole day I couldn’t bring myself to lie or evade when people asked ‘how are you’ in the way that means ‘hello’ but is phrased as a question and you can see the intake of breath when they realise they’ve obliged themselves to generate (in fact solicited) a genuine response.
The kids have to be constantly reminded not to jump on me for a bit, which is tough on them cos jumping on me is their love language.
As for the aftermath - it’s still fresh in my mind and can just feel it. Constantly. The crash.
I had gravel to pick out. I did it myself. A bowl of dettol, some cotton buds, one of those blue cloths you use to clean the toilet. Wiping and rubbing and just suffering sting and pain in order to avoid worse pain down the line if it got infected.
Just having to sort it out for myself. Because of course, I’m a grown man. And yet…
All my life choices in question. I ride some no-brand bike i picked up for £60 on Facebook marketplace because it had a child seat on it. I mainly use it during school term for a quick drop off or pick up. I hadn’t seen it as an exercise bike but then I thought ‘why not’. And why not? Why shouldn’t I take it for a hoon? Did I fail to maintain it? Did I just get unlucky? How can I say unlucky when I actually got very lucky? An affirmation that I have guardian angels looking over me? A wake up call? Wake up from what slumbering thoughts? That a bit of morning exercise is good for me?
Or is there just no lesson here? No takeaway. No compensation for the surprise, pain and helpless loneliness. Just another little knock to be endured.
Is that a comforting thought or a nightmare?
Up early. Punished. Exercise. Punished. No phone. Punished. No helmet. Fucked up. I guess I got away with it. But even that phrase suggests wrongdoing. Surely I was just doing.
What did I do to deserve this? Nothing. What did I do to get away with it? Nothing. How much does my conscious activity contribute to my outcomes?
Very unclear.
How much of my life just happens to me? Despite my best efforts to play the leading role…
Sobering thoughts. Dreadful feelings.
The sense of just being so fucking alone. So integral a part of something that I know not what.
Wow, what a story! Glad it wasn't worse for you. I miss my bike. I haven't ridden since a dog attack that required major surgery. But even before that, I kept to my bucolic large neighborhood's roads which felt safe. Now I make do with a recumbent bike at the gym. :-(