Thursday, December 15, 2011

Days of Gore

I wear a helmet about 99% of the time. So of course, the day that I set off without it and am too late for work to go back for it when I realize, is the day this happens:

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More gore:

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Luckily, no cranial clubbing. I landed pretty much full on my palms, but all that force transferred to my wrists, which are pretty much useless today. I told Cara that I felt like I just had two fish attached to my shoulders - they feel like all they can do is flap around. And hurt.

All it took was one little chunk of road flotsam to turn me into street chum:

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Such a nice day for a shipwreck, too. I was out of the seat sprintin' down Southern in the bike lane and just didn't see it and wham, fuh-LIPPED. And of course the thing doesn't weigh like a pound; it's that hard Styrofoam stuff inside of bumpers. Yet somehow it was enough to bend the crap outta my fork.

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Oh well, at least my carbon monoxide levels are normal.

So now it's a nice two-to-eight week recovery time, during which I will undoubtedly still play polo and make it longer/worse.

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