Last Thursday (technically Friday, 3am) I experienced my first bike fall—and boy was it a doozy:
I’ve never been seriously injured before in my life, which is pretty good for 22. I was always a very cautious kid. When my friends would climb trees, I always offered to be ‘look-out’. In the three years I played soccer, I never once was goalie (I always traded my turn for another kid’s half-time juice box—win win!). I didn’t even learn how to ride a bike until age 18 (well after I learned how to drive a car); and I’ve only just begun to ride in the street instead of on the sidewalk. Needless to say, an experience like this has been a long time coming.
I’ve been struggling with having something so gnarly on my face. Although my instinct was to just hermit myself while I healed, a girl has to work. I have become painfully aware of my painful injury, as every customer either has a story to tell, sympathy to give, or an unfunny comment about how it looks like a goatee (hence the insecurity). It’s getting easier and easier though, and I should be taking out the stitches this Sunday before I leave for Tacoma (and then to Hawaii).
It hasn’t been an easy start to the summer. While all this has been going on I am also in the process of a painful end to a four-year relationship (but I won’t get into that). I am still confident about the future though, everything happens for a reason and all that jazz.