What doesn’t kill you…makes you bleed.

on
Beer.  The best bandaid a girl can get.
People are always using that lame-O line, “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger”.  We just assume “they” are correct…but is there any truth to it?  I’m torn.
I had one of my scariest mountain bike crashes yesterday on Bays Mountain.  I wasn’t going particularly fast, but it was rutty and loose…and I chose a craptastic line.  I saw myself heading straight for a tree.  I tried to turn out of it, but my wheel caught sideways and launched me over the handlebars, feet still clipped in, right off the embankment.  Luckily I’m somewhat of a “tree hugger”, because that’s what saved me from going off the side of the trail.  My ankle got caught between the bike and the tree…and it hurt.
I quickly got up after a few choice words and a John McEnroe-like reaction.  I knew if I stayed on the ground I would cry…and girls don’t cry in front of a bunch of boys. 🙂
Getting back to the car was a combination of painful movements and a more timid attitude.  I was scared.  I don’t like being scared.  When all the guys were up ahead of me, I let the tears fall.  I was in pain and I scared the beejesus out of myself.
Riding down the fire road, I began to think about my last few relationships and how they compared to my mountain bike rides.  I’ve taken a few hard diggers lately.  Kinda makes me afraid to get back up and on the bike at times.  I have a blast on my bike…riding with friends…in the woods.  The feeling I get flowing through the trees is amazing.  I don’t so much enjoy the climbing, but I know that’s part of it (and it makes the descent worth more). 
I’ve taken a few hard diggers in the relationship department over the last couple of years.  Makes me afraid to get back up and continue on the journey.  I’ve experienced some of the most amazing moments of my life in the company of others.  I’ve also experienced some of the most heart wrenching moments in the company of those same individuals.  Did it make me strong? 
I figure if I can get up, brush myself off and keep moving after some of the disastrous relationships I’ve been in, I can keep riding my bike.  Believe it or not, a broken arm heals faster than a broken heart.  I’m still not sure if those experiences have made me stronger or more cynical…we’ll see.  The unfortunate difference between the heart and the bike is…you don’t get to choose which trail your heart takes.  Just hold on for your life!
So, would I rather have a broken ankle or a broken heart?  Hand me the crutches….

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