Stuff happens!
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Don’t ever think for a second that just because you give your fancy carbon fiber, lightweight, 21-speed road bike a rest day that you can’t take a spill from your trusty old hybrid bike.
The Wildwood boardwalk is not my favorite place to ride, especially on a holiday weekend. But, it has become a tradition, first for our kids when they were young and now for our grands.
So, I had put away the cleated shoes and tied up my sturdy Avia sneakers. I pulled on my favorite Evelyn Hill Cycling bibs and topped them with a very cool sleeveless jersey. ( Even on an easy ride, I want to be comfortable and stylish.)
My grandson got up early and looked like a mini-Tour de France racer all duded up. For the first time he was tall enough to ride his Pop Pop’s hybrid with fatter tires. He felt so proud.
His mom was riding a beach cruiser. She would lead the way with the grandson in the middle and I, the most experienced cyclist, bringing up the rear.
It was July 5th, and the streets, sidewalks and boardwalk were packed with visitors in a hurry to catch every single ray of sunshine.
They hurried to the beach and they rushed to the coffee shops, barely pausing at stop signs. Some people just have a different mindset when they’re on vacation searching for fun.
We crossed the first block and all looked fine. Same at the second and third.
In front of us were beeping horns, kids screaming for joy and the famous recorded voice telling everyone on the boardwalk to “Watch the Tram Car, Please”.
Our grandson was doing great. He maneuvered that big black bike straight up the boardwalk ramp where his mom was waiting. Then I approached the ramp. People were carrying beach chairs and pulling coolers, toddlers in tow. A car was approaching from the driveway on the right. People were everywhere.
Quickly, I decided to stop and allow the crowd to get through, but the car was still approaching. I dropped out of my saddle and straddled the bike. At least that’s what I thought I was doing right up until my uncleated sneaker caught on the pedal as I went to step down.
The next thing I heard is the sound of me crashing onto the sidewalk and ramp railing. Crunch went my shoulder. My neck went backwards. My head, thankfully still in the helmet, bounced twice before landing against the cement curb.
Woah, that hurt! At first, I thought for certain my left shoulder was broken. I sat there gathering a crowd. Ouch! My neck, and mid back were screaming.
After taking a few seconds to catch my breath, I was ready to try getting up. Of course, everyone was so kind, trying to help, but first I had to take a bodily inventory.
In the distance my daughter’s voice was screeching and she came running.
Remembering what I had seen at races, long distance rides and with my own son and husband, I knew the best way to get up after falling. I rolled to my knees, waited a few seconds and took a deep breath. A kind stranger helped lift my aching body up to a standing position.
What happened next amazed even me. All the years of strength training, lifting weights and stretching had paid off. I could freely move all my body parts. Sure, my neck and shoulder burned, as did my back. But this 75-year-old body managed to walk back with the bike to our condo, where I iced up and popped a few Tylenols (I’m allergic to Ibuprofen).
Today, my neck is still stiff, and I’ve got a few bumps and bruises. They remind me never to think that an accident can’t happen, no matter how easy the ride.
I have a lifetime of cycling experience, lead a women’s cycling club and have always worn a helmet and gloves on every ride. One of the few rules of our club is that every rider must wear a helmet. Mine protected me from a concrete curb, taking some hits, but holding up.
Stuff happens, even to the best of us! But I’m still on the road.
Safe cycling, everyone. I’m off to get a new helmet before my next r