At the grocery store checkout, the cashier saw my bike helmet.
“I fell and broke my elbow about a year ago. I haven’t ridden since,” she said. This woman looks about 1/3 my age.
“About a year ago I got hit by a car and woke up in the hospital. My nose was broken, my jaw cracked, my collar bone broke, and I had a concussion.” I kept the list short on purpose. I didn’t want to compete with her broken elbow.
“They don’t put casts on elbows so I had to wear a sling. You don’t know what it’s like to only have full use of one arm,” she said.
“They don’t put casts on collar bones either,” I said. “I had to wear a sling for weeks after the surgery.”
“Where did you get the courage to ride again?” she asked.
“It’s my car,” I said. People don’t stop driving because they get in an accident.
“I only rode for pleasure,” she said.
She stared at me like I’m a lunatic, while I packed my groceries into my saddle bags.