This is what my arm does

30 Aug

Rode my bike miles yesterday.  Miles.

Screen shot 2013-09-11 at 10.21.14 AM

When I decided I had to go home or die, it was about 2pm and as hot as hell. I found myself peddling as hard and fast as I could to go up the hill at Carlisle in Nob Hill, but only to find the bike slowly creeping backwards down towards Central. Cars were honking. My body was failing. I had to get off and walk.

When I got home, after I passed out on the floor of the shower for a while, I tried to put on clothes and go about my day as if I hadn’t wasted one of my nine lives on the old Schwinn. To my dismay, I could barely lift my arms, frozen as they were in handlebar position.

I didn’t have the energy or the words to explain to the boyfriend when he got home. All I could do was lift my arm up halfway and say, “This is what my arm does.”

Somehow he understood exactly what had happened.

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