Short answer: No, dammit.
Two days after getting Etta from her builder, I tipped over on a low speed turn in a parking lot and fubar’d my elbow pretty bad. It took a solid month to be able to straighten it out.
Funny thing, though. That happened about a month after my Dad passed away. Dad had a stroke 15 years before he passed; his left side never worked smoothly again, and every day he carried his left arm bent and stiff. He’d stretch it out with his right arm.
It took three weeks to realize: Just exactly the way I’d been doing. I think Dad reached down from Heaven and gave me a good swat for being on a bike in sneakers and a tank top. Thanks, Dad. You were right again.
After that I lost my nerve and had no business being on a bike. I tried every week to go again, but every single time I let the clutch out my heart would land in my throat.
I’m not off riding my own bike, not at all. In fact, part of the problem was the horrible angst all summer long about letting myself, my friends, and most of all my builder down. A city is no place to learn to ride, and Etta is out in the country now. I’ll find some time, once I get my arms around this new job.
Oh, and buying a house with my boyfriend. Priorities. 🙂