It's Not Like I Can Help It

I love riding bikes.  It's mostly what I do in life these days.  With two ribs still on the mend, I'm really trying to keep from overdoing it by getting on the trail too soon.  Sure, the doctor said I can ride "when I'm ready."  However, I know that if I rush this shit I'll take much longer to recover.  My goal was to stay off the trails for at least six weeks, doing nothing but road and urban rides until I was completely healed.

Well, I'm a victim of my own stupidity and sweet singletrack in close proximity to my residence.

On my urban ride, I somehow ventured onto the gravel part of the greenway because I thought I was feeling up to it.  Along the way I remembered that one of the best trails around, RTS, was right under my nose.

Screw it.  I'm in.

The bumps were minimal at first, but riding a single speed hurt me some.  Having to stand up to climb (and pull up on the handlebars) put quite a strain on my ribs.  I dealt with it because it was fun.

And sometimes fun hurts pretty fucking bad.

The trail isn't too rooty, and I'd gotten a little used to the pain while climbing.  And then...

rocks.

Who gives a shit.  It was too late to turn back.  The joy of singletrack helped me forget the hurt.  I hit more rocks.

Fun.  Srsly.  I was outside, on my bike, in nature, enjoying a sweet trail close to home.  I said nature, right?  Look at this tree...

I mean, LOOK AT IT.

Neat.

It was an awesome time.  Almost like I'd never been off the bike.  It was just like Beggar's Canyon back home.

Star Wars reference because I can.

Mentally, it was great to be back in the (real) saddle again.  Physically?  Well...

I may have a little bit of a setback.  We'll see.