Injured, Sidelined, and Hating It.
I live a rather high-strung, active life. I don't have kids, I have a job I adore, and have good friends that participate in a vibrant sports community. Most people don't know the whole story. I don't talk about it much. Today I'm complaining, so if you are reading this looking for some snarky criticism of pseudoscience hit your back button and go away. I'm at home early tonight, going completely nuts. Here's why. May 31, 2014 I found myself face down on the pavement, scraping forward from 25 mph to a dead stop attached to a bicycle. I was riding in the thick of a fast-moving pace line on a usual Saturday morning club ride. We did a fast 50 miles from Gainesville to Melrose, FL and back. When coming back into town, the rider in front of me got a flat, hit the brakes, I hit him and went down. I fell correctly, got up, dusted off, took a deep breath, and rode my bike back to my car about another 5 miles away. My left knee swelled up like a balloon,