HOW TO TAKE A FALL

it didn't snow in portland. it was, however, cold enough that the front steps frosted over, and since they're wooden, and new, that meant not much traction for a rubber-treaded bike shoe. so you instinctively save your bike by raising it up off your shoulder and take the impact with the opposite side of your body. scrapes don't cost money to fix at the paint shop, and if you don't change your socks when you transform into your street clothes you won't even have to see them until you shower next. plus, now you have solid proof to justify your justifying those white leather gloves that don't do much for the cold but would probably save your knuckles in a crash: they're tested now, at least for protecting the brunt of your hand.

then it seems a little silly that you have a bicycle because you're just walking it trying to limp off some of the pain. your hip and shoulder will be sore and tight later. later you can take a bath. stop saying ouch.

undeterred. it's supposed to be clear all weekend. junk miles here we come. you can't look good at being bad if you don't get tough. just imagine all of the races you could throw.

ooo-hh. your shoulder hurts now.