Admittedly apprehensive if I’m being honest.

I decided to go out on my bike given a break in the weather during the long cold winter. I had not exercised in quite some time.  It took me way too long to find all my gear, but I continued on, pursuing my end game, hoping and believing it would be worth the efforts, once I got out there.

I wasn’t sure where I was headed because I had to take a new unfamiliar trail this time. I wasn’t even sure where the trail head started. I only had a vague idea. Continuing to fight the lies in my head that this would not be worth it.  I’d be too cold, I’d fall, I wouldn’t have strength in my legs to get very far, I’d get lost or worse, never even find the trail. Somehow I would find a way to embarrass myself, I thought.

I made it out the door! Adjusted the headphones in my ears,  turned on my app and playlist, helmet strap clipped, gloves tucked into my sleeves, wearing all the right kind of winter gear, windbreaker, etc..  (alpaca socks and all!)

Off I went, picking up speed, it felt just as freeing as I remembered to push those pedals and make traction and allow physics to work to my advantage. Still a little unsure but confident and hopeful, I headed for where I thought the trail was.

I indeed found it!

Yes!

Another victory!

Still, there were patches of ice and snow dispersed randomly that I’ve never had the joy yet of experiencing 🤦🏻‍♀️. But quickly I learned how to navigate those situations.

Once I was on the trail the fears started to subside and I fell into my place of peace. My mind was in its happy place to think freely and enjoy all the sights and sounds around me.

Not surprisingly, after a few miles, I could not decipher where the trail continued.

Oh man.

After circling around a bit I decided to head back a little to see if I had missed a sign. I found a side trail that ended up being very beautiful but was a short loop bringing me right back to where I started.

So,  I headed back home, thankful that I at least got in a short ride.

Suddenly, jarring my thought process, 8 to 12 deer came jumping over the trail and into the woods!

If you know me well, you won’t ask why this happened but I quickly attempted to grab my phone out of the sleeve hooked on my handlebars, ripping out the earphone cord while also attempting to apply light pressure to the brake

with.

my.

left.

hand.

Attempting being the operative word! (Yeah,  not such a good idea).

I gave just a little too much pressure 😬OK well maybe I squeezed the break as hard as I could in my excitement and went flying over the handlebars tangled up in my bike lying on the ground, skidding from the pavement into the snow and dirt, hands burning, knee throbbing, my entire left side  growing increasingly cold and wet from the snow I was now lying in.

A little shock at first!

and then…

My first thought was shame. Had someone actually witnessed this hilariously horrific catastrophe? Well, that thought quickly subsided because what can I do about that now!

My next thought, could I still see the deer or were they gone?  Obviously they were long gone. Bummer. Forget the camera because I didn’t know where my phone ended up anyway!

And then…

My third thought…

How are you going to get out of this tangled mess and get back home Little Missy?

But as I was laying there with the bike literally between my legs, my ankle caught under the pedal arm thing or whatever it’s called, I was instantly caught off guard as I looked up at the most beautiful site!

It was dusk and to the west I could see the colors of the sunset doing its reflecting thing through the sky! In oranges and purples and pinks.

Also the lonesone crescent sliver of the moon shining right down on me, hanging in the vibrant blue sky in the vastness of it’s back drop.

I smirked a bit and decided then I would just lay there and take it all in.

Funny how when you’re down so far all you can see, and see so clearly, is what’s above.

All you can do is look up.

Everything else fades out of focus.

In fact, as I reflect on those  moments, I can’t even remember seeing the lights of the city, the blaring neon signs, the distracting busyness of the store fronts and noises of the cars that I had just seconds ago observed.

This was my first big crash.  I’m certain it won’t be my last,  but that is not what I will be focusing on.

I’ll be focusing on the outcome that was completely different than anyone could have scripted.

always unfinished