rockym93 dot net

archive · tags · feed

I fell off my bike.

09 September 201309:42AMlife

I fell off my bike. I haven't fallen off my bike for years. It's so easy to forget that you're balancing on two really quite thin wheels, and that it took years of learning to not fall off.

And then you fall off again.

I'm fine, by the way. This was about six weeks ago. There's a literal list of intersting stuff I could be writing right now. There are like, 10 things on it. Some of them are pretty sweet ideas. But I'm not writing those right now. Right now I need to get some stuff off my mind. Not, like, serious emotional stuff. Just about two months of accumulated experience that I haven't really sat down and processed, and falling of my bike is at the top of that list.

I used to be able to think on my bike. A lot of people think while they drive, or in the shower. I thought on my bike. Because it was automatic and second- nature enough for me to do it. I knew my route. I knew by bike, and my center of balance, and I had my heart rate up. It's not a bad place to think, all told.

Except, of course, if you're thinking while you go over a bump late at night. Then you realise you maybe should've been paying more attention.

Paying attention is actually the tougher habit to break, maybe because it's reinforced by actual physical pain. I keep pulling myself out of my train of thought to check that I'm not about to hit another bump, and then for the rest of the day I'm left with what Michel would call presque vu. Which, as you can imagine, is absolutely infuriating.

The official joke story, of course, is that I fought bears. Because for some reason, just like admitting you don't have your driver's license at 20, admitting you fell off your bike at 20 is kind of embarrassing.

I still don't have my license. Maybe it's because I'm missing that automatic mode. Maybe the residual terror of one of my early close calls while merging is why I can't relax into driving the same way. Or possibly I'm reading a lot too much into it. That's one of the reasons I've never taken psych, despite it being one of those catch-all, vaguely interesting electives. They say you start diagnosing yourself with all the neuroses. Also that they use you in their test-subject mill, but I don't actually mind being a test subject.

(There's a statistical bias in the social sciences - in Linguistics, at least - towards 18-22 year-olds, because that's what researchers have easy access to. It's a legitimate problem.)

Anyway, I don't think it's left me a broken human being. I just find it interesting how much something effects you, even after your legs stop hurting.

Oh hey, speaking of legs hurting, we also won a frisbee match. Our first one ever, actually. Again a few weeks ago.

See? It isn't all doom and gloom.

< Is the moon upside down in the Northern Hemisphere? The Gathering >