A Better Reason

The rest of October flew by with me biking to work every day, staying until late and biking home in the dark. 

The Burke Gilman Trail after 10pm is an interesting place.  First of all, in many places the trail is far enough from the road that there is practically zero ambient light, so you bike by the moon & stars and hope for the best.  Second, the trail gets a little wild after dark so there is noticable scurrying in the brush on either side and I imagine the reflection of little critter eyes in the glare of bike head lights flashing by.  Third, oncoming bikes with super-bright lights---intended to “see” rather than “be seen”---are blinding and I whisper casual oaths under my breath as they approach.  A few considerate riders shield their high-beam lights, but most don't bother and I do my best to guess where I am in relation to the side of the path. . . . can’t see a blessed thing.

Then also, people occasionally leave the ubiquitous green and yellow bikes-for-rent sprawled near the path making for difficult-to-perceive and unexpected near-miss obstacles.  Speaking of the ubiquitous green and yellow bikes-for-rent, . . . by day, folks peddle these bikes slow and steady, and us bike commuters can make our way around them all right.  After 10pm however, a few of these bike renters are as well lit as the bikes themselves!  Having emerged from the local pub and unsafe to drive a car these riders feel steady enough to rent a bike.  But I digress.

I have implied the cause of not pushing hard on convalescence has everything to do with being super busy at work, but that is not fully accurate.  Truth is other distractions have arisen on the home front.  This is tuff to talk about.  It is not like falling off a climbing gym wall which is easy to overcome by comparison.  This hurts in a different way.  So very, very sad.