It was a cold and rainy Friday morning. I was debating with myself whether I should go or not to my opthalmologist and get my eye checked out. After a couple of hours, I lost the battle to my itchy eyes and decided that it’s best to just go and seek some medical help.
I grabbed my umbrella, went down the stairs and headed for the bike shack where my mountain bike was parked in all its worn-out glory.
I assumed the roads were slippery so I was cautious. I held the umbrella with my left hand while I used the right to move myself around. Only the breaks on the left side of the bike were working.
I went past the corner school, over the bridge and past the place where I usually park my bike. And just as I was a hundred meters away from the clinic, a big truck, a household package delivery truck appeared in front of me. It was a narrow road. I evaded towards the side walk.
Sweeep. Thud! Thud Thud! Swoosh! Baaaam!!!
大丈夫ですか。(Are you OK, sir?), said the lady who saw the whole thing.
I was face down on the pavement. My left hand above my head. My right one
holding the bike handle. And the bike to my right.
(Yes I’m okay. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any inconvenience [because of my stupidity]), I replied.
I was halfway standing up, checking my body to see if I still have all limbs intact and in their correct sockets. I exclaimed a sigh of relief. I was still moving, albeit hurting a bit on the knees and the ankles. I picked my bike, walked away calmly, limping towards the hospital for my eye checkup.
It was the start of a long Friday.
Yokohama -> Osaka -> Hyougo (snowboard)
Ignore pain. Gotta love pain.
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