A boy died two days ago riding his bike after being hit by a car. Reading that, it suddenly struck me how lucky I was to escape with no injuries after being hit by a car on Friday cycling home from work.
This is one of those things you don’t your mother.
I had worked late but, gripped by Murray Mania as was the rest of Britain, I was racing home to hopefully catch the rest of his Wimbledon semi-final against Andy Roddick. (For those not in the UK, or not into tennis, Andy Murray is the current world no. 3 and has become a national sensation, having been hyped up to be the best hope Britain has in tennis for decades. Tim Henman? Bah.)
Trying to peddle off at a just-turned-green traffic light while at the same time trying to avoid a big metal-grilled drain, I fumbled and my feet slipped off the pedals and I suddenly stalled. The car behind couldn’t stop in time and hit me on the back wheel and sent me crashing into the railings along the sidewalk.
Luckily, because everyone was just moving off at the traffic light, everyone was going slowly. Otherwise, I can assure you my bike would’ve collapsed into scrap metal and I would’ve flown up and over my handle bars and the railings into a big wall.
Badly stunned, I was physically shaking as I pushed my bike home. (To shake when you’re scared? I’ve always thought that was just a cartoon thing.) The back wheel had buckled, but other than that, we’re both fine.
Both Nasty and I went helmet-shopping the next day. For some reason, everyone, when hearing that, rolls their eyes and chuckles. I guess it does take a wake-up call like that to convince myself to part with £30 for a helmet. *sigh*
But hey, helmet on head, bike fixed, everything is groovy now. :) Though I do have to keep repeating to myself over and over again as I ride: “Safety over speed…safety over speed…safety over speed…”