Hybrid

Hybrid:  Something of a mixed origin or composition.

SuperK and I bought bikes a few months back.   I spent a lot of time on a road bike back in The Old Town in the day, hunched over the handlebars, racing imaginary people who weren't actually there, eventually putting enough of a hurting on my back and my knees and my wrists that I had to give up the sport.  This time around I bought a hybrid bike which means I don’t know what it means.  In my mind a hybrid bike would be part bike part hovercraft but this particular vehicle is supposed to stay on the ground and doesn't have any engines or wings or anything.  I sit a lot more upright on the hybrid which is easier on my back although I admit I look ridiculous – I’m tall as it is and the bike has to be pretty tall itself so my knees aren't dragging on the ground so I look like I’m riding a bike on stilts or one of those 10 feet tall unicycles.

So SuperK and I are tooling along when I’m startled by a car approaching on my right.  I reach down and slam on the brakes which was not the right thing to do.  Putting on the brakes would probably have been OK but the slamming of them became problematic in a hell of a hurry.  Apparently I have pretty good brakes because the bike stopped like right now, my momentum and high center of gravity causing the back wheel to come suddenly and alarmingly off the ground while the front wheel pretty much stayed put, leaving me in the position of looking like I was some kind of demonic unicyclist attempting to burrow into the earth.  The rear tire was way up in the air and I was looking straight down at the asphalt.

“Uh-oh,” I thought.  "This doesn't look right."

It really is true that when you get in those situations threatening serious bodily harm that your brain kicks into an odd slo-motion-ey state.   It was almost as if I was thoughtfully pondering the possible outcomes one by one.  Luckily or skillfully or something the back wheel re-entered earth’s atmosphere with a bang; I did not go over the handlebars onto my face or my head; and I managed to make a controlled landing on my right side.  It wasn't especially pleasant, mind you, but it wasn't catastrophic.  I banged up my right knee and the bike’s rear wheel but didn't break anything valuable or that couldn't be fixed.

For the next couple of days I felt depressed, as if I had done something wrong.  Wrong as in bad or evil or incompetent.  I had made a mistake, as I do each and every day, except this one had the potential to have a more serious outcome.  I’m still dealing with the emotional hangover.  I’m trying to think good thoughts: I could have messed up my pretty face or I could have hurt my beautiful face or . . .  well, you get the point.  The same thing happens to me when I get sick - I get depressed because I think I've failed somehow.

I pray each day that my thoughts are free from self-pity, worry, remorse, and self-seeking motives.  Sometimes I really have to work hard at wrenching my thinking out of the negative and into the positive.  Is it really true that there are people out there who start off each day with a sunny outlook?  

If that's true it would be very, very freaky.