Tomorrow, if I can wedge my elephantine foot in the boot, I’ll ride down to my favorite bike mechanic and have him lower it a notch (the bike, that is. It’s too late for the foot). I thought I’d been doing fine with the bike at stock height, but I really can’t afford to go through this again. It’s just great luck that I didn’t have to travel this week (I have tons of writing and Photoshop work to do, but I can sort of raise my leg while I do some of that). It feels like an admission of defeat to lower the bike, but I guess it’s just self-preservation.
I rescheduled the low-speed tutoring, and I’m hoping I will come out of that triumphant. I love the bike, I love to ride, and, frankly, I expected to catch on to this faster than I have. Things that are effortless for experienced friends (like quickly negotiating tight spaces) still challenge me. I’ll get better.
I had a wrestling match with an Ace bandage this morning. (The doc recommended that I batten it down by binding it, to subdue the swelling.) I’d get one end anchored, complete 2 or 3 trips around my leg, then DOH! the first end would lose traction and the whole thing would unravel. After the 5th attempt, I thought, screw this, I’ll go get some old lady compression hose. I picked up a pair of white (I know it’s after Labor Day, but so what?) and an unnatural tan pair. Continue reading