The curse of being a klutz with fast reflexes

SO, Good news! I am a 2-wheeled commuter. 

My awesome roommate in Taiwan shared stories of her adventures biking to work in DC and I always envied her paved trails and easy access. GUESS WHAT. Now the world should be envious of me.  But, not really...I'll explain later.

This is what I imagined...

When I moved to DC and started working, it was the first thing I thought of.  AND I was ecstatic to learn I had access to a gym with a lovely locker room so I could pretend that I don't sweat! 

Regrettably, I don't live in the most convenient part of town.  But call it courage or just crazy, I am persistent and decided I would take the 11 different roads and 4 trails that eventually equal 14 miles to get me to work.  Thank goodness for google maps.  BOO FOR TRAFFIC.  For about half the ride I'm on a legit bike trail, so it's heavenly.  But, the other 7 miles ... It's okay, I rode a bike through Bangkok and Cambodia...they barely have roads...I can handle this.

I was biking when I took this picture...(SEE, I'm somewhat coordinated...)
but, these two girls were holding hands, and it was precious!
I <3 Cambodians!!

However, today I almost died.

Let me angle through my brush with death...actually it was a brush with an idiot...they can kill you.
Today, I was within 100 feet of my destination...which meant I had biked basically 14 miles already - safely, also means I had biked somewhere around 70 miles since Monday with no other threats...not even a dog. (I needed a car on wednesday, so i drove, but 3 days out of 4 is a good start!)

However, after riding 14 miles (remember, I wasn't even sweating) and passing through my last intersection using an actual crosswalk that even had a handy countdown which signalled that I had the right of way for another 36 seconds, I kissed the zebra.  Although I still played it safe, when I saw a nice truck signal that he would wait for his turn, I decided I could trust him and clipped in; crucial detail...I have clipless pedals ...logically, this makes no sense because I actually clip my shoes to the pedals...but, whatever...it's like wondering why we call a pen a pen (which I did until 6th grade...and never got it...)...but...the bigger problem is that once clipped in, my feet are secured to the bike, yay when you are pedaling up hill!!!  nay when you crash. WHICH IS WHAT HAPPENS NEXT.  While I swiftly pedal across the crosswalk, another F450 (WHY DO YOU NEED A TRUCK IN ARLINGTON?  YOU. ARE. NOT. A. COWBOY.) BARRELS through.

Um. CUTE!

Good news, I have tiger like reflexes.  Bad news, I am a super big klutz. Put those together, I managed to stop before getting run over, but I didn't unclip and kind of bounced my way to the pavement. I'm sure it would have been hysterical if it didn't hurt so much.  And I could care less about the bruises and scraped knees.  BUT, I somehow managed to bruise my rib - as only a klutz could - and now laughing and basically breathing are completely out of the question.

Not going to lie...I might have sworn...it's a good thing I'm not Muslim...since Ramadan started last night...and I would have broken it day 1. (Did you know that cursing is forbidden especially during Ramadan!)

So, I've learned that I laugh more than I realized throughout the day. That's good. Except now, I don't really want to laugh.  Isn't that Murphy's Law?

Anyways...I suppose I'll have to keep jumping through hoops until all wannabe cowboys finally realize they should just move to Russia. Russians love cowboys.

Hey, Putin! let's be friends...but, I'm kind of a klutz...