Ouch!

I'm twenty years old and just experienced my first bike wreck.

It was a beautiful afternoon and I was pedaling home from a long day on campus. There was construction down the main road so all pedestrians and cyclers were confined to travel down the one side walk. I saw her coming many yards ahead. She was clearly struggling with the incline of the road, swaying a bit with each pedal. As the girl on her bike got closer, I noticed was she wasn't edging over at all to give both of us room to pass; one could say we played a little game of bike chicken. In the end, I lost and swerved into a groove in the dirt, my wheel kicked the edge of the sidewalk, flew out from under me, and BAM!

I found myself sprawled out on the cement.

The girl didn't even stop to see if I was okay.

So there I sat. With scraped hands and a bleeding knee I almost allowed self pity to win victory over my spirit. Then a familiar, friendly voice spoke in my head:

"Why do we fall, Master Bruce? So that we might learn to pick ourselves
up."

Thank you Batman Begins for providing me with the wise British voice of Alfred the butler. Because of his always good advice, I glanced at my stranded pink bike, picked myself up and grabbed hold of the handle bars, hopped up on the seat, and rode home.

I didn't even cry. Go me!

P.S. Sorry if my picture grosses you out, just felt like I should document this little milestone.