It rained all day yesterday so for the second Monday running did not ride. Instead I made use of an early Father’s Day present and watched lots of cricket highlights on one of Rupert Murdoch’s well known revenue streams and was taken out for a wet deer hunt in the woods with the dog. We didn’t find any wildlife. They were too busy keeping dry.
I am now half way to 100 commutes for the year with less than half the year up. I had to park up at the “park and ride” this morning as had 1 to collect from school at the bell while the other was at his cricket match. I was happy with the shorter ride on the byways and bridlepaths. Much more interesting and it stopped the argument in my head about whether I was too tired to even bother fighting for space with cars. After yesterday’s rain, there were puddles. Lots of puddles, lots of mud and lots of fun. It was like winter again except milder and the ground more like plasticine than mush. The wet nettles and long grass cut and whipped my legs as I drifted in and out, up and down the trails. I arrived at work muddy, sweaty, happy.
After last week, work was quiet by comparison. I sat at my desk catching up on admin and checking the forecast for my match tomorrow. Until I got an e-mail that it had been cancelled due to rain. I struggled with my conscience not to tell work which took about a minute and decided to take the day off anyway. Sitting in front of the box watching World Cup cricket, a bike ride and a dog walk will be a better option for my overall health anyway.
So I headed back to school and made a last minute decision to do this morning’s route in reverse. At about 2km I turned the corner following a country road, rode through some water drainage (complete with loose grit), slid, lost balance, skidded as I tried to right myself and, unable to unclip fell suddenly onto my left side.
My knee and elbow took the impact of the fall and on closer inspection, discovered that there was a deep cut in my knee after I washed it out. Bugger! I phoned Mrs B2W to sort out the logistics of getting the boys home while I cycled back to work to get patched up. A clean, 4 x 3/0 Prolene sutures later and some take home dressings I prepared to ride back to the van, much to the concern of my colleagues. After much flapping, argument and counter argument I decided that I would not win this particular battle and waited for my lift home.
It turns out that a front of knee laceration is a good injury to get (if there is such a thing) if you don’t like the sting of local anaesthetic (me). I was even complimented on the tough skin of my knee making the passage of the needle very difficult. I didn’t feel a thing.
Now that I am soaking in the bath (Nurse Practitioner orders) my knee is telling me that it has had quite a whack. If ever there was a timely injury, this is it. Cricket is cancelled tomorrow and I am under strict orders to rest. I hate being dependent to the point of grumpy but I’ll take it if I am to be entertained buy the Aussies getting a thumping at the hands of the wonderfully unpredictable Pakistanis.
And before anyone asks, the bike is OK-it had a soft landing by falling on top of me!