After five and a half weeks, I finally got back on my bicycle. I had left my sling behind the week before and my shoulder was feeling pretty good. The weather was Indian summer perfect with bright sun and temperatures in the low 70s. So I went. It felt good to be back on the bike. The drive chain hummed, the pavement sushed by, the gears clicked, and I reveled in the pleasure of exertion. As I passed the spot where I had crashed, I spit on the pavement as a gesture of defiance. A little childish maybe, but if we don’t defy our ghosts, maybe they chase us back inside to the recliner, or to the grave.

Tags: injuries