Call Me “Duncan”

I awoke feeling pretty good. I stood with pretty decent posture. I even was able to do a full set of my physical therapy exercises. By the time breakfast was over, the pain and stiffness was creeping back in.

So I rode to work.

You knew that was coming.

It was a little chilly for shorts but I wasn’t about to screw around with putting wind pants on. I hopped on Big Nellie. Cold air be damned.

I expected to have tired legs but they seemed fresh. 

Pedal, pedal.

A bald eagle checked me out as I rode past the Belle Haven nest. Good morning, Mr. Apex Predator. 

Zipping down the little hill to Jones Point Park I spotted Nancy “Two Sheds” Duley climbing my way. 

I could read her mind. (“It’s Monday. The sun is shining. We’re riding bikes!)

The only bad part about the commute was the fact that I had to stop riding for work. I gotta work on that whole pay-me-to-ride thing. 

During work my back stiffened up. I walked around listing to the right. Yes, master.

When the whistle blew, I was back on the ‘bent.

Monday’s don’t suck when you have an evening tailwind. 

I cruised between 15 and 20 miles per hour most of the way home, leaning into turns like street luge. 

Weee.

The bald eagle had given way to a pair of ospreys. 

The last mile brought dark clouds and an occasional sprinkle.

Home and dry.

Friday my back felt awful. Today was much better. I’ve been through this up and down thing about 15 times since first injuring my back in early February. Good. Bad. Good. Bad. My back’s a yoyo.

Call me “Duncan.”

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