I'm not gonna worry wrinkles in my brow,
'Cause nothing's ever gonna be all right no how.
Christopher St. John and his posse have put the final nail in my off-road-by-bicycle coffin with their cruelly vindictive Aptos High race course. Them, and the (latest) tipsy night ride last Friday aboard the bucking (read: rigid) crossbike.
I got the tennis elbow real bad. This has been onsetting since August. I've been mostly very stupid. I kept pushing the riding and the bodywork and the wrenching (these activities obviously require a lot of hands on.)- piling a night ride on top of a shift doing massage, repeatedly. I piled a bunch of trail work (clipping and sawing) on top of that. One of these days I would give it a rest....
I have hit my bottom. I can't shake hands on this, because it hurts in a burning and unsettling way, but I am lying here looking up and wondering the usual. Where did it all go wrong? Why me? If I could transfer this injury to someone else by force of will, which of my "friends" would suffer?
This is no great shakes in the long run, or the Grand Scheme of Things, or to anyone anonymously reading a crappy weblog...but what the hell do I do with myself now? Pretty much all I like to do is ride bikes and drink beer and this elbow is needed for both.
Look for me one armed on the road and lying under the taps at Alfredo's I guess.
