Hang Time

We were riding our bikes to the library, trying to get there by 11:00 when teen volunteer orientation started. (Tim said that you can't call it volunteering if you are forced to go. There is another word for that...Community Service!)

We took the path that connects our subdivision to the library. Well, it almost does. The path runs in between some houses and then leads into a field of grass that you have to go across to get to the library sidewalk. This is sort of my doing. Back when the sub was transitioning from the developer to the homeowner's association, I was on the board of directors. I wanted the developer to finish all the items on the master plan, which included this path. I called the Parks and Recreation director to find out if they would be connecting our path to the library. He said they probably would but it depended on how they used that land. But they never did.

I was following Timmy onto the grassy part when I heard Jeffrey, who was riding close behind me, call out: "Watch out for the giant hole!"

At this point I entered this out-of-body slow motion state of uber-awareness. Kind of like back at work when I would study slow motion films of crash tests, analyzing the movements that took place in each millisecond frame. Have you ever experienced this?

Here are the thoughts that ran through my mind:

My bike is sinking
Oh no I hit the hole
That is a huge hole
I am airborne
What is going to happen?
I hear Jeffrey screaming "MOMMY!"
He sounds so scared
Poor thing has to watch his mommy fly through the air like this
He has such a cute little voice
Nice of him to care, I love that little guy
The handlebars just smacked into my leg
I am now separate from the bike
I should have tightened the straps on my helmet
I hope my head doesn't hit
I'm flying
Now I'm going towards the ground
I wonder what will happen when I hit the ground
I'm hitting the ground
I feel my skin ripping off my legs
I don't think my head hit
I feel grass on my face
The bike is on my feet
So this is what happens

I laid there stunned until I heard Jeffrey asking if I was ok. I looked up to see my children looking worriedly down at me. I sat up and after a couple seconds told them to go on to the library and sign up for their activities. They did!

I went home and cleaned up my wounds. Ugly red scrapes and huge purple/black bruises now decorate my legs. Other than a general banged-up feeling, I am ok.

We're going to go over and do something about that hole.