Noah and I rode by the spot where I was surprised by the sudden closeness of the glove compartment of a certain Camry.
It some ways it seems like it only happened a short time ago, but in others it seems like was a lot longer that 3 years ago. I go by the spot a few times per month, but I don't intentionally avoid it or anything like that.
When I think about it, I can recall the second or so of impact, the going over the car, and then coming to. The most vivid memories are of those next few moments of waking up, everything spinning, and thinking, "ok, this is what dead feels like".
I don't mean to be melodramatic, but that's what I thought right then. Couldn't feel anything, didn't really have my bearings, couldn't hear anything...then the inventory started, and I was not dead.
Today, I brought the camera so we could take a picture of the spot. It's raining some, but not entirely unpleasant. While there, I got kind of queasy and sat down. That's when Noah took a picture. I thought about the friends who came by and the messages I received afterwards. I thought about how difficult it has been to get back on top of riding and racing since then. But where I went weak today was thinking about just how many people don't ever wake up, get up, or much less ride again after being hit.
Keep riding. Enjoy every ride. And take care.
No comments:
Post a Comment