My story actually starts a week ago. Before tonight, which made me extremely thankful for my husband.
I was at the doctor’s office. New patient visit so they ask you tons of questions about your medical history.
Do you smoke? No
Do you drink? Socially- so moderately. Yes I drink.
Do you wear a helmet? Umm, what kind of question is that— Um, yeah when I do things that require me to. Lie. I don’t usually wear a helmet. Ever really. Next question people.
Justin has been on my case about wearing a helmet when we bike, but I get mad because he doesn’t wear one (because we only have one at the moment, as I only bike with him once a week) and then I look dorky.
“Ashley, of all people, YOU need to wear a helmet!” he said.
” NOOO- you!” I said back and handed him back to him.
“Ashley,” he said and then gave me his serious face.
So I put the helmet on.
Off we went on the Monon Trail.
We decided, well Justin decided, to take a different route. He went on 146th and then we were going up a different trail. So at this point we were by Clay Terrace. We were crossing the bridge on Meridian and I heard someone coming up behind me. I looked over my shoulder to confirm and started to move closer to guard rail. Then we got across Meridian, but we were still on a bridge.
I looked over my shoulder to see if that person was still behind me. I was about to yell at Justin to move over since the guy seemed to going faster than us. And then I looked back over to the road.
“WHOAAAA” I yelled. Justin later explained that it sounded like the happy “whoa” I do or like the Sports Center announcer who yells “WHOOOOP!”
BOOM! I slammed right into the guard rail. The right side of my body and front of the bike slammed into the railing and then I fell over to the left, landing hard on the left side of my body.
I was in shock. And I looked up and saw the guy who was behind me.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
Obvious question to ask, but my whole body was hurting. The first thing I thought of was that there probably isn’t a last thought befroe someone dies. I was completely blank. I guess looking back my only thought I would THINK I had was “PLEASE don’t go over the guard rail and land 30 feet down.”
Justin turned around at this point, and said, “Oh baby!”
“Do you want me to help you up?” the guy asked.
“No, I don’t know- it hurts so bad.” I said. The entire left side of my body hurt so bad because the impact was so hard.
And then my second thought: please don’t be hurt, I have a half marathon to run on Saturday.
And my third: I knew I should have just ran tonight…..
So Justin and the guy helped me up. He tried to lighten the mood and told me that he fell off his bike too just last week when he was reaching for his water bottle. I laughed, but deep down I knew he would go home and tell his wife about the awesome wreck he saw. And tell everyone at work tomorrow. Oh well, I’m a fan for stories.
“Thank you for stopping,” I told the guy. “You are very sweet.”
And then I started crying like a little kid who just did something wrong and didn’t want to get yelled at.
“You know, I looked back and thought- damn, she is really close to that guard rail,” Justin said.
So then we started laughing about it. I told him what happened since he was ahead of me and missed the big shit show. Then we saw the bike. Ruined. I completely bent the front rim.
We had to walk 2 miles home. Pushing the bikes. Can’t someone just come pick us up, I thought. Anyone?
So we started pushing. Every few seconds Justin would make the “WHOAAA” sound I made and start laughing. Just like Boomer from ESPN.
“It wouldn’t be so funny if you were hurt worse baby girl,” he said. “I love you- I love you so much my clumsy wife. Yes, I married the clumsiest person in the world.”
“I love you too babe,” I said with a pouty lip. “I love your supporting, loving, cocky self.”
“Yeah, that is pretty much me.”
So we walked home in silence, only to the sound of the rhythmic squeal from the wheel. Then a laugh. Then a moan from me. Then another laugh.
“Darren is going to love this one!” he said about one of my co-workers who loves my stories about life. Unbelievable.
We’d look at each other and smile- but really I was writing my blog in my head all the way home and he was probably thinking about fantasy football, sex, Dallas Cowboys, sex, and then me flying through the air. Sexy.
I’m alive, but the lesson is learned. Always wear your helmet. It certainly helped me tonight. I just have bloody knuckles, bloody and swollen elbow, bruised hip, first degree burns/skid marks on my upper right arm, and bruised right leg.
I feel like shit.
I should stick to Zumba.