Last Monday I had a PT appointment, at which one of the three therapists on staff told me I could resume business as usual. I liked the sound of this, so on Tuesday I went skateboarding;
And life was good.
Then again on Thursday, I went skateboarding;
And life was even better up until the moment gravity made me her bitch, slapping me to the ground and hurting my knee again. I’m not sure what the prognosis is, but I’m hopeful that it’s just a strain and eventually I’ll be ok.
“Well, that’s a fine how do you do?” I thought to myself. “And I have that stupid hairnet ride to do on Saturday.“;
I did a whole lot of icing, and elevation, and resting but as I was putting on my pants Saturday morning, I caught my pinkie toe in a crease and actually dislocated it.
I would have taken a photo but I was so amazed by the fact that now, on top of everything else, I hurt myself putting on pants. So for good measure, I popped it back in, and then out, and then back in a few times, and then I taped my foot together in order to get on my bike and head out to meet the ride.
For a spell, we drank coffee, and shot the breeze but before long, it was time to get cracking;
For the intimate group in attendance, I had initially conjured up plans involving feats of strength, as well as all sorts of other bike related hijinx, but seeing as I can barely walk, I reckoned it would be an on-road/off-road jaunt with a smattering of goof off/refreshment stops. First thing, we stopped to pour some out for that guy who killed himself;
From there we ass-over-tea-kettled our way over hill and dale until we landed at the final stop;
Folks thinking it was gonna be a sweet Strava token gaining ride were probably bummed. For the rest of us however, I think for the most part it was a success. We’ll see if anyone shows up next year to be sure.
Then as if recovering from that shitshow wasn’t enough of a chore, the launch of Paisley Skates occurred on Sunday. Officially, all Paisley goods were available on the website that morning, but for folks in the area, once the sun set, we had a party;
Young at the start of the evening, and eventually, towards the end, just the old.
And from that point forward, you’d better believe that the conversation consisted of little more than meandering diatribes regarding arthritis, body casts, and when we’re finally put out to pasture, what color balloon we prefer.