Beyond This Moment

27 miles in two days. It all feels good. The pain feels good. The twitching muscles while I sleep, feels good. The fear of falling feels good. It felt great to ride with my son again, even when he almost put me back on the DL by high siding a tail whip slide, five feet in front of me at 20mph. It felt good.

I rode through my first bonk. I lost Cory and doubled back for him. He doubled back for me too. Both of us doubled back on the route the other took. From above it would have looked like the stooges on bikes. We still rode out to Crump road.

 It all felt good.


W.B.Z.N.

Undisclosed Desires

Here I sit on another eve of bone diagnosis. Even with health issues I can become cynical and jaded. I am veteran of a thousand waiting room wars. I can separate the meat from the grunts in one room sweep. I have laughed at the noobs, that get annoyed in the blood test lab. I have marveled at strong mothers of sick children. I have the hundred medical form stare. I am highly decorated. I am out of puns and metaphors.

I wish there was some inspirational ribbon I could pull from all this dear readers, but alas my streams are nuggetless. This collar bone thing has no nobility since it was (by far) the least dramatic, dumbest crash I ever had. The injury, though tough and somewhat painful, really doesn't even rank top ten in the shit list of health issues I have suffered in the last five years. There is no glory and even less sympathy. I didn't take any of it seriously and was taken down by the silent killer...sloth.

Tomorrow I go to the uninterested orltho guy who will squeeze me in between, famous motocrosser A and up and coming F..S.U. quarterback B. He will have just enough time to be bored with the fact that I've been off the bike since January twenty, 2012. He will say: "see you in x number of days, weeks etc." or he will clear me to ride. This will be the only event worthy of anything resembling drama. He will regale me with a "good thing you are not Patient X, who suffered an injury way worse than yours" story, in hopes of making me feel lucky. This futile action will be met with no eye contact and a dismissive yawn. I will hold out my hand for the form before he gets it out of his metal notebook. He will check his hair in the mirror and open the door to F.S.U. quarter back B. Their awesome conversation, about all they have in common, will fade with my footsteps, as I walk to check out. This is fine with me. I have had the full attention of enough doctors (perplexed by my behavior or maladies) to last me a life time.


Then there will be the elephant in the car with me that I have no one to blame for but myself and boredom. I have not been on the trainer. I have not been eating right. I have an extra gallon of milk in my mid section. I can't whistle the Rocky theme. I have a tap root that goes to China from just under the surface of my couch. The saddest sad of all is, I don't feel like I have missed cycling much, or at all. Is there a cure? It's a head scratcher.

I am sure Walter Cronkite had nights he hated the news. I know how he feels.

W.B.Z.N.

  

dEM bONES

Dedicating this one to the latest member of the clipped wing club.....The Rev. Apparently the Rev took a huge digger and got him some "Wrecking Ball Frequent Fly (ER)" points (to be redeemed on the couch while icing).

IT'S A CONSPIRACY MAN!

w.b.z.n.

Everything Always Happens To Me

Well the collarbone groundhog came out today and saw my x-ray's shadow. Sadly it will be two to four month's before I get on a bike again. I hate to subject you faithful readers of (this geek tragedy) to  more of my health woes, but someone has to be the goat and unfortunately, the costume is my size.

It is a little hard (even for my bitter, cynical brain) to believe I didn't even get a full year back on the bike. The song lyrics to "If I only Had a Brain" and "If I only had a Heart" keep ringing in my ears for some reason. I am getting a little tired of trying to keep a stiff upper lip and all that. I was really hoping for some long boring years of little to nothing to report, but I guess Deity of Choice has other agendas to which I am either not privy or the punch line.

I want to apologize to all my friends for not calling more, or staying in touch, but I see no need to spread the bad vibes.

Anger management, time on the trainer, and more TV are in my (BASTARD!) future. Feel free to laugh.

W.B.Z.N.    

The Greatest Sin

The greatest tragedy of all is not the anguish we suffer at the hands of those we loved.
It is the hurt we cause to others of which we are totally unaware.
Those are the tears that fall with the weight of the ocean.
The tears that fall from the eyes of those that trusted us with their hearts,
only to find us careless, weak and unknowing,
of the responsibility with which we were charged.



W.B.Z.N.

pOP yA cOLLA

I got a broken bone and you roll your eyes
say I'm almost fifty I outta realize
can't heal like when I was twenty
popped my colla, but at least it was funny

Y'all know I can be a hater
till the day I die, be a bass racer
my world needed an instigator
if you fast well, I'll see ya later

I don't like trails wrapped up like candy now or laters
you got good lines, I got erasers
you like clay, Yanni and mediators
I like rocks, roots, logs and alligators

hiking trail, do work son
BC FNG, ain't no stripe son
earned my kit and you bought one
save your receipt, get a refund
titanium in my heart and neck
If I crash, I bleed orange and black
fell off the skill builder heard a crack
rehab like Shanks, and we'll both be back

Wrecking Ball hanging in the sun
Rusty chain, mouth's a machine gun
no body cry when I'm done
you might have trophies, but I had more fun

When I die spread my ashes on the levy
hope the box holding me ain't too heavy
All the BC boys get handful and throw me
You didn't like me?
Then ya didn't know me....


W.B.Z.N.

Bones

Not really feeling like typing the whole sorted tale of my demise, but here's a little morsel for you BASTARDS!

W.B.B.C.B.Z.N.