In the throes of grief as my mother-in-law approached the end of her life, my wife said to me, nearly in tears, “Just please don’t get hit by a car on your bike. If something happened to you I would fall apart.” I haven’t ridden my bike, really, since a 7 mile ride on February 23rd.
I have felt a bit unmoored these past few week. Supporting my wife is my top priority, but cycling—particularly outside, not on the trainer—has become a real benefit to my mental and emotional well-being the past 3 years. Sharing some of the grief with Valerie, sharing the lack of proper or at least uninterrupted sleep, and not wanting to make her any more worried, I have stayed off the bike. That comment really hit me. You see I have been hit by a vehicle on my bike. More than once. So I understand why she’s worried. But every time I’m out and about and see folks riding around town it hurts a little.
I have distracted myself by working on bikes in place of riding them. Stripping down the Diamond Back. Tweaking the Trek. Today I did a whole bunch of stuff, like radius-ing the rear fender on my Space Horse, swapping chainrings on the Bombora, and changing out the shitty grip shifter on my son’s bike. I rode three of my bikes around the back yard a little bit to check some of my adjustments. The weather has been extraordinary and looks to continue for the next week and a half. I have come to the conclusion that I need to get back on the bike.
I talked to Valerie about it and she’s cool with it. She’ll continue to grieve and process the passing of her mom as we await the funeral and burial, but she’s not terrified of me getting struck down in the immediate future. And while I can’t predict every driver’s behavior, I’m not so worried about it either.