Six Months

Today is the six month anniversary of a day that changed - and almost ended - my life when I was hit by a truck while riding my bike.

Initially I thought it wouldn't be that big a deal. Broken bones heal in a matter of weeks, right? Well, 6 months later I am still working to get the mobility back in my shoulder after it was immobilized for a couple months. I am just now starting to ride my bike again, though much more tentatively. I am working to lose the weight I gained during the downtime. And just this morning I mailed a check which should finally close out the medical billing from the accident (at least until I go in to get the metal plate removed from my clavicle).

But the accident also triggered a lot of very positive things in my life. Not surprisingly, the accident generated a lot of self-reflection and even an epiphany or two. I know myself better, and appreciate the important people in my life more than ever. It got me to move forward with the long delayed completion of a graduate degree. It improved communication between my ex-wife and I, such that we can be genuinely happy for each others progress and accomplishments as we move onward down our separate paths. I've learned to delegate better at work, and that has had a positive effect on my staff and me.

And then there is the financial side of it, which I have yet to fully absorb. While the settlement did not make me wealthy, in some small yet extremely important ways it has been genuinely life-changing. I am no longer in debt to credit card companies. I have a little bit of money in the bank. And today I made an offer on a condo to buy. Prior to the accident, those goals were still a couple of years off. I don't recommend getting hit by a truck as a way to earn a living, but there's no denying that the short-term financial gain has been nice.

I'm not angry. I don't feel like a victim. I am not living in fear.
It was a simple accident. I am happier than before it happened, and with some more work and a little luck, I can be healthier too.

I can't wait to see what the next six months brings!

Best Wishes

Maggie,
I know you'll never read this - I don't think anyone will. But still, it feels good to me to be able to write to wish you well with your new home, new husband, and your new baby together. I'm glad that we have been able to find closure and move on while being caring, considerate, and respectful of each other.

I hope that you, Michael and your baby share a long, healthy, and very happy life together.
Love,
Bob

Generation Ex

In the good old days, when you broke up with someone that was it. You went your separate ways and didn't have much contact afterward. Maybe if you lived in a small village you saw each other, but otherwise distance and anonymity came easily. But now through the miracles of FaceBook, LinkedIn, and hundreds of other services and databases, it's pretty hard to disappear. In fact, the village may have become smaller, since mutual friends mean shared conversations, whether or not ex's are in the same room or the same country. So what is the meaning and value of "ex" status these days?

In the past, we got away from that person, maybe retreating to the secure circle of our closest friends and family. In that safe space we could recover from our emotional wounds, rediscover who we were, redefine what we value most in our lives and in relationships. There is significant value in that process. But now it is harder to sever those links to an ex and to move on as an individual. We still feel a connection to our past and perhaps are influenced by that person whom we have decided should no longer be a part of our daily lives. Not only does it make it harder to move on, but one could argue that in some sense we never fully break up! The dependency becomes virtual, the dysfunction is digital, and the affection is expressed through a different medium, but it's all still right there if we want it.

This is not a condemnation of relationships, of Facebook, or of the online world (blogging would be an absurd medium for that!). But we need to ask ourselves hard questions about where an ex fits into the present and the future. We need to examine the effect that they have on us and us on them. We need to try to imagine the difference if they were truly out of our lives, and the best-case goal if we choose to remain in contact. Such an ongoing connection could be a very good thing. We may come to understand others more completely with the perspective that is gained outside of the past relationship. We may appreciate things we took for granted, or find we can critique values and behaviors in ways we couldn't when we shared the moment. There's no right answer: In some cases it might be healthier to truly cut those ties and log off of each other's lives, while in others a healthy friendship or at least a mutual respect might endure. But it should be a intentional choice, made with consideration for each other and with an understanding of the implications of either option. It shouldn't just be a digital default.

Fantastically Ridiculous

Tonight, after knowing each other for several years, I had a first date with the woman I'm going to marry. She may not know it yet, and there's the slight complication of the guy that she hasn't quite broken up with yet, but she's on her way and so are we.
The courtship has begun.

Feeling very lonely, battered, and ill-defined. Too much direction and but not enough meaning. Can I become who and what I want without a better idea of who I am?

Side note: A follow-up to the pain and suffering post from February. Fuck yes, sue if that's what it takes. Get what is needed. Get what is deserved. I'm not bitter over my experience...just experienced.

The Blob

I seriously cannot take much more of this sedentary life.

On one hand, I have a solid fear of not healing properly and needing additional surgery. Last night I woke up convinced that I'd heard or felt something crack in my collarbone. It took me until I got up this morning to feel reassured that it was just a dream, and that it's OK....probably.

On the other hand, I'm watching my weight go up, the few muscles I have are decaying, and my clothes don't fit right anymore. Plus my digestion and sleep are out of whack too, and I know all of this relates to lack of activity.

I see the doc Monday. I assume there will be new x-rays, and I sure hope they are better than the last set. Hopefully the stitches will come out, the big bandage will come off, and I'll be in better shape to start doing things like walking the neighborhood or using the stationary bike.

Much more of this sitting around, and I'm afraid my butt cheeks are gonna fuse into one mass that's permanently bonded to this damn chair. It's time to get moving again.

Pain & Suffering: Would Captain Kirk Sue?

(These are the voyages of the lawsuit Enterprise...)

I was involved in an accident on 1/14/2011 that left me with 5 broken ribs, a broken collarbone, and a bunch of scrapes and bruises. Even now, I have a hard time writing that I was the victim in the accident, even though the other guy caused it. I was riding my bike, and a driver made a sudden, unsafe, and illegal turn across the bike lane immediately in front of me. I impacted the side of his truck and was thrown over the hood and into the street. His choice, and his action, triggered the accident.

But I don't like to think of myself as a victim - it's just not my nature. Maybe I'm too stubborn. Maybe I watched too much of John Wayne and Captain Kirk when I was growing up. It's hard to imagine The Duke hiring a lawyer to settle his problems, or envision Kirk launching a civil suit against the Klingons for damaging his ship. So why should I sit back, call myself the injured party, and hire a mouthpiece to settle the score for me? I mean, yeah, I was pretty badly injured, and as I write this 5 weeks later, I'm recovering from surgery to try to correct problems with the collarbone.But I'm focused on healing, and that means regaining my identity as an active, forward-looking person, which my instincts tell me stands in direct contrast with defining myself as a victim, as damaged.

And therein lies the problem with pain and suffering in the legal sense. I've always felt like people who seek damages for pain and suffering are usually out for a quick payday, and often exaggerate the nature of their problems. But maybe that's also a conditioned response that I have to movie portrayals or a small percentage of sensationalized cases in the media or in the advertising of unscrupulous ambulance chasers. So what is the nature of my pain and suffering, and how does one seek restitution for these things?

There are the obvious damages; lost wages, medical and legal expenses, the damaged bike, etc. There are other subtle expenses that come from the lifestyle modification one undergoes during rehab; buying clothes that are compatible with wearing a sling 24/7, renting a reclining chair to sleep in since I haven't been able to use my bed since the accident, and so on. But suffering? That's a bit more elusive.

Initially, I rejected the concept entirely. But I hit a low point a few nights after the accident and it made me reconsider. It was in the darkest hours of the night - 2 or 3a.m. - and, unable to sleep much due to the physical pain, I woke up in a dark room, stuck in the chair that would be my home for much of the next 2 months, and felt very alone. I though of people I'd loved who in other times would have been there to help, but this time I was on my own, and the weight of that fell hard on me. I broke down and cried, but with 5 broken ribs, crying is a damn painful thing to do, so I tried to sob more softly. As soon as I realized the adjustment I was making, I couldn't but laugh at the absurdity of it. I wanted to cry over the very situation that made it hard to cry. It was an almost comically fucked-up situation...but can you be compensated for that?

Since then there have been other scenarios that hit me in similar ways. A few days before the accident I'd had a seemingly great first date. She and I talked and laughed easily and I looked forward to seeing here again that Sunday, but on Friday afternoon a truck redirected my plans. She seemed a good sport when i told her what happened, and we agreed to get together again as soon as I was able, but after just one date it's hard to expect someone you barely know to put their life on hold and wait for you. She didn't, and met someone else. Amazingly, the same thing happened a month later. I'd had an even better first date, despite the fact that I was in a sling and still fighting through the pain of the healing ribs. But a few days later I found out the collarbone wasn't healing right and would need immediate surgery. Again, she was supportive and we talked about getting together as soon as possible as I healed, but again, she met someone else. The chain of events leading back to the accident had cost me opportunities for two different relationships. It's easy to philosophize that if either had been the right person for me they'd have waited, but had it not been for the accident that would never have been an issue. Instead, I am left to wonder what could have been. Either might have ended after 3 dates, or either one might have become a life-changing relationship, but I was denied the chance to find out.

I was also denied the chance to know how my training might have paid off. At the time of the crash, I was on a training ride for the Counting Coup mountain bike event, which I've ridden for the past couple years. I had a good base of mileage and climbing, and was about to start some speed work to try to make better time on the event's long climbs. I've invented a tremendous amount of time, effort, and money into this event over the past few years and was really looking forward to a big improvement this year. Instead, I've had to sell my elusive and coveted event registration, and now just hope to be able to volunteer and cheer on my friends who will be riding. With a return to school coming, this was probably my last chance at the event for the next couple of years. Now I'll never know.

Some of this may seem trivial, yet these are each significant elements in my life, and they reflect and influence my sense of self. So now I sit, contemplating these twists and turns, considering the way I live my life and the person that I am and will be in the future. My home is re-arranged to make things easier to manage, and is far less clean and organized than normal. It's been 5 weeks since I felt like I presented the "normal" me to anyone, and it will be at least that many more again until I am not a damaged person in the eyes of others. I don't know yet how long it will be until I can get through a day without feeling impaired or frail.

I guess I could be in a pretty dark place, but I'm not. It's a difficult place, with different challenges and feelings every day, and there are dark moments, but most of the time it's not a dark place. I think the differences have to do with the facts that I see most of this as a process to go through, that there's a solution to be worked out, and that I've had support from friends & family. But still, there are days and nights that just plain suck, and those have had me thinking these concepts of pain and suffering.

I know that a lot of this is nothing compared to what many people go through. But it wasn't my fault, and I am going through my share. If that makes me a victim, then I guess that's a component to my personality and identity that I'll have to adjust to. And our system does allow for some forms of restitution, and I've begun that process. Even using the phrase "my lawyer" sounds utterly foreign to me, but I've retained one to help me through this. It will be interesting to see how it all works out.

I just hope the Klingons are well-insured.

What Christmas Should Be

The gifts, the festivity, the chaos, the stress....all that fell aside in a moment this past Christmas Day. I looked around the room at the family members who were there, laughing, smiling, and enjoying the day with those they care about. In the past few years, three had battled cancer, one had lost a grown son, one had lost an unborn baby, two had been diagnosed with serious ongoing medical conditions, and others had worked through various other struggles. I've dealt with my own divorce, a very turbulent relationship that followed, and lived with the threat of unemployment for much of the past few years.

I won't say that those things didn't matter that day; of course they did - they are factors that contributed to the people we all are today. But on this day, at that time, those challenges helped us all to appreciate how special it was to get everyone together. We celebrated the day and each other, we laughed, we hugged, and we said "I love you."

I think this was the best Christmas I've ever had.

Cooking for One

Dutch ovens aren't nearly as much fun when you're alone.

Simple Joys

You have to savor the simple joys in life. If we wait around for the big ones, we'll miss out on a lot of great living to be done, and besides, they're called "once in a lifetime moments" for a reason.

Today's example happened as I was out for an early road ride. It was a crisp late-autumn morning, with moisture still heavy in the air and the ground damp and puddled from last night's rain. Most people were content to grab a warm coffee and get about their day, but I'd opted to get up early for a ride. It was one of those rides that started as a struggle - air cold, fingertips numb, legs feeling dead, and general fatigue dictating a moderate pace, especially during the first few miles which were a slight climb.

5 or 6 miles into the ride, as my body was finally waking and warming, I hit a mild downhill - the kind that's not steep enough to coast, but enough to make you feel like a hero as you spin the pedals effortlessly and are rewarded with easy speed. That woke my mind and elevated my mood enough for me to start grooving on how cool it was to be able to be out there doing what I was doing. I was an urban adventurer, a trash truck toreador, a healthy person with a touch of the daredevil.

As I crossed the 405 freeway and skirted the edge of the wilderness area I saw a long line of commuters staring at the red brake lights ahead of them. I felt a mix of pity for them and jubilation for myself as I easily outpaced the cars' minimal forward progress. With renewed vigor my pace picked up again, enough that I made it back to my neighborhood ahead of schedule, allowing me to log a couple bonus miles and still have time for a leisurely shower and breakfast.

How many others were doing something on this cold, damp morning that gave them as much satisfaction? I hope there were a lot, but in reality I know there were relatively few. While I wish them all the pleasure I felt, I'll admit to that particular satisfaction that comes with knowing that I made the effort to seize the moment and was rewarded well.

It's been a good day.

The Big Questions...

Will I?

Can I?

What can I do with my need to give when I also need so much?

How should I proceed when I am tired of the method but remain optimistic about the outcome?

How much difference do the differences make?

Will this be one of the great "what if" episodes of my life, or just another bend in the road?

How is she doing it?

How can it be that she is breaking my heart without doing a thing?
Or is it precisely because she's not doing a thing?

Soy Un Perdedor

Talk about wasted opportunities....

In the past few days, I failed to tell someone a truth that needed to be told.
I failed to seek help from someone in a position to make a big difference.
And I failed to ask someone an important question that could change tomorrow and a lot more.

I have been very weak these past few days.

The Weight Loss Challenge

Yesterday I joined a bunch of other nutjobs to do a 50+ mile mountain bike ride for Project Rwanda. It was an awesome event, and a fun but grueling course. After doing the Counting Coup a few weeks ago, which is 45 miles and 8k feet of climbing, I was pretty casual about Rwanda's mere 50 miles and just under a little over 5K feet of climbing. Nope! The route featured many, many short but challenging climbs, plus miles of chattery, rocky trail, all of which really took a toll on my body and mind. Thank goodness for the great support and enthusiasm at this event; I fed off that energy all day.

This morning I saw that friends have posted pics from the event in a few places, and my first reaction was "Holy sh*t I look fat!" It was truly depressing. A few years ago, a photo with some friends had provoked the same reaction, and I did lose weight and took on a healthier lifestyle. But I'm definitely not in my 20's anymore, and simply being very active apparently doesn't make up for eating like a 14-year-old who's parents are out of town. I ride my bike between 1500-2000 miles per year, with most of that being off-road and with lots of climbing. I burn a lot of calories. Yet after losing about 18 lbs in my first couple of years of riding, I've now leveled off at 200lbs and can't seem to drop the next 15 or so that would put me at my preferred weight. I'm starting to build a road bike and hope to add a couple morning rides per week on that, and I'd really like to surf and/or hit the gym a little more, but with work and grad school looming, I don't know how much all of that will happen. Which leaves me one thing: Diet.

I don't cook, which is definitely a problem. Despite that, I've made some progress lately, trying bits and pieces of some new things (whodathunk I'd like California rolls or a spinach salad?) But still, the cravings for Diet Pepsi and baked goods are very strong, and chocolate has always been my ultimate weakness.

Can I do it? Can I alter a life of poor eating habits?
Of course I can.

Will I do it?
That remains to be seen.

Smitten.
And giddy.
It feels wonderful.

The Ups and Downs of Keeping it Flat

Less than 3 weeks to go now until this year's Counting Coup, that sadomasochistic mountain bike event covering 44+ miles and 8,000+ feet of climbing through the Santa Ana mountains. In retrospect, I now know that last year I had trained enough to finish, but not more. My time of 8 hours and 9 minutes, while hampered by a broken shifter, was 30-40 minutes slower than I'd hoped to achieve. This year, while not exactly methodical about training, I was laying down a solid base of mileage between September and December. On my birthday, Kevin and I rode from my home to Santiago Peak, which totaled just under 59 miles and 6,200 feet of elevation. In December, I took shorter routes to the peak but did it on two consecutive weekends, with shorter rides in between. On a ride of the Blackstar-Motorway loop, I was as fresh throughout as I've ever been, and was even learning to enjoy that loose, chunky, exposed, rutted singletrack descent. I felt great and couldn't wait for the event.

Then came January. 9 days of illness, followed by 3 weeks of rains.

Then came February, and my old knee pain was back, along with more rain, again limiting my time on the bike.

And tomorrow it will be March. With the Coup on the 20th, I only have 2 weeks left for any training and course familiarization, and I haven't been up Maple Springs in 2+ months. Even worse, I haven't been down Upper and Lower Holy Jim since last year's event! My knee is problematic, so I'm gobbling Advil and Osteo Bi-Flex and icing it when I can. But I've still been forced to limit my rides. Friday it was a 18 mile ride through Peter's Canyon and the surrounding streets, getting a few mild hill climbs in. Today it was 32 miles around the Back Bay of Newport and back. Two rides in three days, totaling 50 miles and around a little under 2000 feet climbed. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I'll make do with what I can do.

I guess this year I'll have to depend on that early-season base, a little experience, and a lot of luck.

Ugh

I had such high hopes for today, but woke up feeling achey, a bit feverish, and sick to my stomach. I'd wanted to surf, then do a quick ride up Blackstar, then come back to get things done at home. I still got a few things done - a little more organizing in the garage, one errand, and ordered a new wheelset to replace my cracked rim, spending WAY too much money that I don't have. It's really time to get serious about taking whatever actions are necessary to reduce my debt.

So now the day is gone, I'm a little more broke, still feel sick and a bit lonely, and it's back to work tomorrow (maybe). So far, 2010 is not off to the start I'd hoped for.

It's Good to Feel Good

I can honestly say that feel better physically at age 46 than I did at 36.

I celebrated my birthday with a mountain bike ride of almost 59 miles, and just over 6,200 feet of climbing. That's something I never would have dreamed was possible ten years ago, and even five years ago I would have been exhausted by one-fifth of that effort. And 14 years ago, I was trying to recover after breaking my back in three places, and I believed that such athletic pursuits were behind me.

Of course there's plenty of room for improvement, physically and in life in general, but on the whole I am a very lucky man indeed.

Good Grief

Good grief, has it really been 2-1/2 months since I've posted anything? Time has flown by and life has offered more than the usual dose of unexpected twists and bumps. Of course on the trail, twists and bumps are fun, but in life....well, sometimes you can find ways to find fun in them as well. At the very least, there are opportunities.

Speaking of which, there is a lot looming on the near horizon; a birthday, the holidays, some traveling, and some substantial challenges. And as is usual for this time of year, there's a lot of reflection and introspection too. I'm a bit prone to seasonal blues, but with so many changes and such turmoil over the past 18 months, I am particularly on guard against it this year. Two seasons ago, doors were closing. Last year offered possibilities tinged with pain. This will be the first year of a "new normal" during the holidays.

Good grief. An expression of mild exasperation, true, but applied literally it could summarize a lot of my recent past, of the recent past for people close to me, and for life in general. We crave love and closeness, though it often leads to hurt. But in the pain is growth, in the growth is life, and in life is the seed of love.
or is that the other way around? There are so many things that I question these days, but they feel like worthy questions. And sometimes the grief really is good.

Even Though, Part Deux

Even though I'd had such a fun day before, and even though the waves were a super-fun peaky 3-4' with some head-high sets, I still had a weak session yesterday. First time on the shortboard in a while, and I definitely have some dues to pay to get the timing back. But having ridden my LB pretty aggressively the day before, I felt like I should get on a board that was designed for that kind of approach. I still think this is probably a great board, but I'm having a hard time with it feeling too sketchy for me. I want to be able to power it, and it seems to just want to squirrel out too much when I push it. Maybe some different fins...

And even though it was less-than-stellar session, it still made me happy. It felt great to be out there, to be on the shortboard, the be hustling for waves and to not worry about the time. And even when I did start to get really frustrated over my complete donkeyness, a shared laugh with a stranger and a nice chat with someone else picked me right up, especially because those sorts of interactions can be rare in the crowded and competitive lineups of Huntington.

In all, it really was a great weekend.
(And I didn't even electrocute myself....though I came very, very close!)