E.g. Life and curbs.

Some things should not be taken so quickly:  E.g. Life and curbs.

I have a new friend.  Her name is Edith, my bike.  She is a Trek 7.2 FX WSD for anybody who cares about numbers.  I normally don’t but since she’s new, I do remember them.  I also remember the check I wrote for her—ouch..

I’m an extra extreme new baby amateur rider.  I can ride to work and back which is one mile in one direction.  I can ride further, but it’s so hilly here that I tire very quickly.  I love love LOVE my bike.  And it doesn’t hurt that her name is shared with my favorite and most dear relative—my great-grandmother Edith Toussaint who is “101-plus” as she quips.  The names weren’t meant to match, but they do and I’m cool with that.

I just finished posting the next few weeks’ assignments for my students on an online database called Blackboard.  I have spent ALL day working.  I got to my office at 1030, made copies and caught a couple students up in homework assignments, taught at 1130, 1240, and 150, finished teaching at 240, posted assignments online until 945, and rode home.  It’s now 1017 and I’m eating cereal because even heating something up in the microwave is too much work.  Oh yeah.  I went potty at about 5pm.

But I had to tell you what happened on my ride home.  I got geared up to ride Edith and started riding.  It’s wonderful riding home because it’s all downhill and I can get up to 18 mph with no difficult whatsoever.  At the stoplight, I normally pop my front wheel and pedal to get up the curb, but today, I was going a bit too fast.  About 8 miles an hour too fast and didn’t break hard enough or proactively enough.  I made it up exactly 40% of the curb.  Before I knew it, my head leads my body toward the grass and over my handlebars. THUD! I blinked and quickly assessed the situation and thanked my Savior that it happened at night with no casual observers.

The front of my bike was turned almost 360-degrees and the chain was derailed.  I gingerly reattached the chain, checked the gears, picked up the pieces of my bike’s front light and put them in my back, and rode a bit more carefully home.

As I was thinking and meditating on my way home, I thought about how this situation so closely resembles life—mine in particular.  Sometimes we/I can plow right ahead and speed past roadblocks, traffic, stalled cars, and tough situations and assume that I am invincible until I have to switch gears and paths.  I have popped many a curbs in my bike riding days and this one has been successfully popped on many occasions.  What made the difference between the successful pops and the unsuccessful ones?  My speed and attentiveness.  I knew my path and knew the limitation of my bike and what I needed to do.  Also, I mustn’t just assume that because I’ve done something a million times that the “million-and-oneth (pronounced wonth)” time will be the same or be done carelessly.

Life is one amazing substance in our existence.  Just because we breathe doesn’t mean we have life.  It’s fascinating and can only be used/abused/dedicated/other verbs once.

Note to Self:  Watch out for life’s curbs.