The Grass Is Dead!

How old is “too old” to ride a bicycle? I am of the firm belief that as long as you can, you should. But…what if I’m wrong? What if I am just this delusional idiot wandering around thinking that at my age, I can still be a totally rad mountain bike trail king? Can I not?!?

So I totally got my ass kicked by a beast of a mountain bike this past couple of weeks. This, in my opinion, was not fun at all. I thought it would be, but it was not! Well, I really forgot how fun it actually is to ride a bicycle. Make fun of me all you want, but it’s true! I had a blast, when I wasn’t being bucked off that bastard! I have tumbled head-first over the handlebars. I have snagged the handle bars on railings and poles, causing the bike to swing abruptly, in one direction or the other, which in-turn, would lead to me being flung off wildly, and landing on a body part that I forgot I had. Until I woke up sore the next morning. I have slid down grassy-ass hillsides, wondering on the way down, who was watching, would they help if I needed it? Probably not. On both counts.

How many stairs must a man tumble down? The answer to that age-old question is seven. You’re welcome. Shut up. I know this, because I have made that journey. That very lengthy, woeful journey. On. A. Bicycle.

I really wanted to be like the cool kids. The guys that would effortlessly race up and down stairs, looking as though they were participating in some sort of urban cyclocross/parkour event. I envied those dudes. I was too timid to try this. Until the other day. “I only have so much life insurance“, or” I have a ridiculous deductible” (this is how you know I’m getting old). But then, I thought about some of those YouTube videos I had been watching about an hour earlier, hoisted my nuts up, threw them over my shoulder, and off I went! Off the bike that is!

Oh sure, I started with a slow, methodical approach. I carefully calculated the approximate trajectory at which I would bounce down the steps, smoothly land and roll to a stop, just in time to celebrate my victory! Hold your applause, please…

What really happened and what I had foolishly imagined turned out to be conflicting events. Completely, totally different. I got thrown back to reality faster than Ferris Bueller ran back home! Damndest thing, those stairs actually grew! I would have sworn that I made a conscious decision to traverse seven steps. I did NOT agree to receive the ass-whooping that I ended up with. As I tumbled down, I felt like I was haphazardly bouncing down the steps of the Philadelphia Capitol building! Pretty sure I passed Rocky on the way down, too!  I believe the third step is where shit went bad. For whatever reason, my mind lost connection with my body, as if the Wi-Fi lagged and no matter what I wanted to do, my hand-eye coordination basically just threw up a giant middle finger and ignored every effort I made to recover! “Not today, bitch! Not today!” Is all I could understand rattling around in my brain hole.

I eventually landed on my head and left ankle (at the same time), and did my best to play the whole thing off… like I was a stunt man just testing out new skills. I don’t think anyone was around to witness me getting a thorough ass kicking from a rogue mountain bike and a few not-so-nice concrete steps. Or, I just haven’t been able to locate the video on You Tube, yet. Yes, I have looked, wouldn’t you? It seems like EVERYTHING ends up on there now.

I figured out that the ankle lost it’s own brief battle with its respective pedal. The shin injury is straight-up missing chunks! Chunks that were likely left on the edges of those fucking steps! In short, I really have no idea what happened!

I now have a challenge ahead of me. What? Did you think I was going to give up? Why, that’s just a flesh wound! I will just have to get some pads…and a better helmet…maybe a Jeep!