Saturday afternoon, three o’clock. We still sit, all of us, in our family room, poking at our devices. We’ve done this for hours. All except Eli, he worked this morning. He came home at noon and went straight to bed. Everyone’s a little hungover. Last night was rough. It started with a screech or a … Continue reading The Attack
Injury
Surrender
Can’t you show me nothing but surrender? It’s a quote from Patti Smith’s punk poem/anthem Land. I’ve already written all about the song, so I’ll spare you my unabashed praise, I just want to use the quote as my jumping off point for some thoughts about new year resolutions. Surrender: As used in the song, … Continue reading Surrender
Stuck
When I tumbled off my mountain bike two months ago, I knew immediately that I damaged my shoulder. Crumpled on the ground, the sensible side of my brain took over: Get up, get riding. Most people who grew up playing sports know that after a significant muscle strain or joint injury, there is often a … Continue reading Stuck
Fight, fight, fight!
Sometimes there's nothing to feel Sometimes there's nothing to hold Sometimes there's no time to run away Sometimes you just feel so old —Lyrics from Fight by The Cure I realized this last winter: the day after my sixtieth birthday, I would lead a group of teenagers on a mountain bike ride. Me, four … Continue reading Fight, fight, fight!
Walk Away, Baby
The 5th Beatle Walking TallThe Walking DeadWalk on the Wild SideLong Walk to FreedomI Walk the LineThese Boots are made for WalkingWalk this WayWalking on SunshineThe Long WalkDead Man WalkingA Walk in the WoodsHow to Walk Movies, music, books—it permeates our culture. We even know catchy sayings like walk a mile in his shoes, and … Continue reading Walk Away, Baby
Subluxation… Again
Not my shoulder, I don't see a doctor for this. Sigh. Another Saturday afternoon on the couch nursing a boo-boo. Someone added a new mountain biking obstacle—a bridge of logs lined up perpendicular to the trail, maybe seven feet long. The bridge doesn’t actually span anything, the only purpose is to have fun. Like a … Continue reading Subluxation… Again
Blooms
“Oh no coach, you’re bleeding!” “I’m always bleeding.” I can’t believe I still have this conversation. Honestly, everyone should know by now. Back at the cars after a mountain bike ride, blood streaks my arms. A kid, usually one of the younger ones, approaches me with concern. At some point during the ride, I brush … Continue reading Blooms
Decline
My coworker Bob called them chapter breaks—those steps in our fitness level that we periodically tumble down, never to return. I noticed this first in my thirties. I lined up a string of successes, personal records in a couple of races—a 10K and a ten-mile—a respectable marathon time, twenty-third overall in a thirty-three-story stair climb … Continue reading Decline
The Big Trees
Two-thirty in the morning, awake, paralyzed with pain. I turned on the TV for distraction. Counting the minutes until my next morphine dose. This went badly. Me: Hey it’s been four hours since my last dose, can I have my morphine now? Nurse: I already gave you your morphine. You need to wait four more … Continue reading The Big Trees
Phone Call from the Future
Something's going on, and I'll probably never get it… --- Song lyric from She’s Crafty by the Beastie Boys I amaze myself at how incompetent I can be. If someone asked me what traits I hoped I instilled in my kids, my list would be 1) Politeness, 2) Empathy, and 3) Competence. That’s the order … Continue reading Phone Call from the Future
Proof of Age
Not my kitchen I couldn’t relax, or lie flat, or breathe. Susan googled heart attacks. We thought she should check, maybe, just in case. We carried the microwave—the new one—into the kitchen. It mounts under the cabinets, above the stove, doubles as an oven hood. It’s not too heavy, maybe fifty pounds, awkward, but manageable … Continue reading Proof of Age
I Can Ride That
I stress about what I write. Not the topics, but the word count, the frequency, the quality. I lie—I stress about the topics, too. I joined a writers' group on Facebook—Authors with Tourette Syndrome. “Authors.” Stretching? Aspirational? I'm more comfortable with the generic term writer. Author implies output, something published. That's not me, barely. I … Continue reading I Can Ride That
The Dog Days
I see my vacation in the rearview mirror. A fading memory of a not-so-great week. (Eli’s injury, then illness, then an early return home. <<== Link). Susan scoured VRBO looking to rent a place at the beach for a few days as a family consolation prize. Apparently, a popular idea. No one vacationed last summer. … Continue reading The Dog Days
Postcard from Maine
~ Not Eli ~ Eli crashed hard. I assume. I didn’t see it, he speeded ahead when the terrain got dicey. Or really, I slowed down and he didn’t. I rounded a bend and saw him flat on his back in the middle of the path, his bike in the brush. I could tell he … Continue reading Postcard from Maine
Chapter Break
It’s so easy to blame it all on the deep state. Or my doctor; or the universe. Myself? Someone’s to blame dammit. This can’t all be a coincidence. I’ve lived for fifty-eight years. Those have been healthy years, mostly. Yes, lots of surgeries, but those can be explained. The bike crash accounts for three of … Continue reading Chapter Break
Concise Book of Muscles
Susan dug out the Concise Book of Muscles this morning. As I limped around the house for the eighth consecutive day making short sucking sounds that mimic air being let out of a tire whenever I stepped wrong, I thought it might be a good idea to try to identify the issue. Last weekend, in … Continue reading Concise Book of Muscles
Old Man Takes a Hit
Mid-day. Not even mid-afternoon, barely past lunch time. I’m done for the day. On the couch, feet up, ice-pack on my thigh, shallow breaths. As a mountain biker, injury is inevitable, part of the sport. I bought my bike fourteen months ago. Eli, one year in at that point, all but addicted, and needing a … Continue reading Old Man Takes a Hit
So many reasons to say yes
We arrived before the party even started. It didn’t make sense. Why show up early when I wanted to spend as little time there as possible? I guess we did it for Eli. Saturday was his season-end shindig. A cookout, a camp out, a chance to hang out with his coaches and teammates and not … Continue reading So many reasons to say yes
Mortality
“Stop fighting us Mr. Cann, we’re doing all we can to keep you alive.” I don’t remember this admonishment—I’d just barreled head first into a minivan on my bicycle—a hospital resident told me the story after I stabilized. But this head injury isn’t what sent me to critical care, it was the internal bleeding. The … Continue reading Mortality
Spinning, Running, Bikes, Bikes, Bikes
Note: #4 in the BABWTR Series - my quest to become a Bad-Ass Back-Woods Trail-Runner. Each stands alone, but it is helpful to read them in order. I commute to work every day on my bicycle. I ride a mile! A half-mile in the morning, and a half-mile back home in the evening. Sometimes, … Continue reading Spinning, Running, Bikes, Bikes, Bikes
The Other Stuff 