Feeling Like Elvis

All shook up, that is.

My accident wasn't bad, in that there were no broken bones, no concussion, no head split like a watermelon falling to the street from a 10-story high rise, no sudden sick desire to beat my chest and listen to Celine Dion tunes.

But for some reason I feel, well, really shaken. I was really amazed at how hard my head hit the concrete (and how well my helmet worked). Today I'm really stiff and sore. But for my helmet I know I'd be laid up in a hospital. And that would be a best case scenario, I'm absolutely convinced.

I love riding my bike -- I love the freedom, being outdoors and the physical exertion. It gives me a sense of independence, fitness and fun. To get hurt doing something I love is disturbing. Like getting bitten by a beloved pet, perhaps.

And, like a rodeo rider thrown from a horse, I know I've got to get back on and ride. But I'm feeling a bit apprehensive about it. And that's disturbing too.