Mother Nature is a child abuser
Yesterday I went bike riding along a trail that loops about the dried out canyon and boarders the Sante Fe Dam. I was happily riding along, minding my own business, when from out of nowhere a doe-eyed kangaroo rat darts across my path. Partially distracted by the little beast's cuteness, partially startled by the sudden movement, I swirved, lost control of the bike, and fell into a jagged rock-infested ditch. Luckily, I managed to land almost exclusively on my right leg, which spared my head from injury, and managed to catch the bike with my left leg, which spared the bike from injury.
I split my right shin open pretty badly; it's deep, but not very wide, so I don't think I need to stitch it. I also have a huge, swollen bruise on both of my knees, as well as numerous cuts across the knee and shin of both legs. My right thigh is nothing more than a huge bruise with a welt running diagonally across its front. My hip and ribs on the right side are nicely discolored. And I have a huge bruise on my right arm, as well as a flurry of scratches caused by the prickly plant that I landed in. My ass is also bruised.
I was a few miles from home, and making the mostly up-hill journey, dripping with blood, sweat, and dirt, I realized I was having a lot of fun. It was exactly the kind of weather I love -- overcast, but not too dark, windy, but not too cold -- and the endorphines and dopamine from exercise and that post-injury high were flowing like wine. All in all, it was a great day to fall into a ditch.
I think I've also been conditioned to enjoy that kind of nature-induced injury from experiences when I was a kid and my siblings and I would go out into the woods and have all kinds of silly adventures, all of which would leave us bruised and bleeding. It was always such a thrill, and I always felt so close to my siblings afterwards. Especially when we would go places we weren't allowed to go to, and would have to hide our injuries and create overly elaborate lies. So I suppose that nowadays getting my ass kicked by Mother Nature makes me feel warmly nostalgic.
Then again, I'm also on painkillers, so...that could have something to do with it. Yay painkillers!
I split my right shin open pretty badly; it's deep, but not very wide, so I don't think I need to stitch it. I also have a huge, swollen bruise on both of my knees, as well as numerous cuts across the knee and shin of both legs. My right thigh is nothing more than a huge bruise with a welt running diagonally across its front. My hip and ribs on the right side are nicely discolored. And I have a huge bruise on my right arm, as well as a flurry of scratches caused by the prickly plant that I landed in. My ass is also bruised.
I was a few miles from home, and making the mostly up-hill journey, dripping with blood, sweat, and dirt, I realized I was having a lot of fun. It was exactly the kind of weather I love -- overcast, but not too dark, windy, but not too cold -- and the endorphines and dopamine from exercise and that post-injury high were flowing like wine. All in all, it was a great day to fall into a ditch.
I think I've also been conditioned to enjoy that kind of nature-induced injury from experiences when I was a kid and my siblings and I would go out into the woods and have all kinds of silly adventures, all of which would leave us bruised and bleeding. It was always such a thrill, and I always felt so close to my siblings afterwards. Especially when we would go places we weren't allowed to go to, and would have to hide our injuries and create overly elaborate lies. So I suppose that nowadays getting my ass kicked by Mother Nature makes me feel warmly nostalgic.
Then again, I'm also on painkillers, so...that could have something to do with it. Yay painkillers!