I bounded. I hurtled. I threw myself head first out of the gloom and straight into the middle of unbridled glee. And, somewhat miraculously, sustained no injuries in the process; that’s a first.
My bike probably has other plans for me, though. I heard it moving around the other day, in the storage closet where it’s been wintering. It’s getting ready to burst out of hibernation any day now and launch me into oncoming traffic or a lamppost, over a guardrail. I can feel it in my old injuries, the multitudes of them — my lung, my shoulder and head, knees, ribs, pride. So please prepare your get well wishes in advance and avoid the seasonal rush. Thanks and be sure to visit me in the ICU between 2 and 4 p.m.
Welcome back daylight, you’re a sight for sore eyes.
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