I knew something was wrong by the way that Jaclyn and her two nearly identical twins were looking at me. Especially the slightly taller one on the left who kept phasing in and out of focus. Actually, looking back, I think Jac may have been more confused than I was when I commented on how much the three of them looked alike. Either way, I sat down just to clear my head. And, I closed my eyes for a moment. When I woke up she was on the phone with 911 ordering me a bus. Huh, no, I’m okay. 

Well, the truth is I knew the situation had gone bad the second my foot hit the ground. I had not quite cleared a power-move wheelie-up and had put my foot out falling backward. The angle of the ground, the speed of my fall, my weight, there were a lot of contributing factors. Put plainly, I tried to touch my shin with my toes. Though the impact was silent, the pain actually washed over me as blinding noise. It’ll make sense in a moment, but there was not the loud *pop* one would expect.

With the support of Jac’s unflappability, and using my bike as a crutch, I navigated my way down the trail back to my car. The humour was dark and necessary as I one-footed the descents and hobbled up the climbs. Soon Andy would get in on it too: “the lengths you go to avoid carrying rocks for me, eh?” I love my friends. I love my friends.

I got home with Jac’s help. Put away my gear. Did some laundry. And sorted out the Clairebarian’s hockey gear for practice. It was all a bit much so I called my mom and because she’s wonderful she drove out from across the ocean (i.e. not the North Shore) and took us to the arena. The swelling of my calf was intense but the pain had subsided to a dull ache assisted in part by my mom’s signature blend of 1x extra-strength Tylenol and 1x extra-strength Ibuprofen. 

My favourite medical professional in the world, Dr. Gregg Smillie, possesses the perfect mix of my sense of humour, a similarly stubborn resilience in his personal endeavours, a slightly fatalistic approach to the sport we both love, and brutal honesty backed up by a solid batting average. Thanks to his counsel (“I have bad news”) I went to the ER instead of waiting-a-couple-of-days-to-see-what-happens which is my usual modus operandi. As it turns out, a couple of days wouldn’t have done anything for me. 

As I’m writing this, in the wee hours of the 21st, I’m freshly home from having completed my first seven long blocks of hobbling-with-crutches-action. It’s doubtful that I’ll drive, or ride, again this school year which means that the Clairebarian, Nina, and I are in for a little bit of a transition. We make a good team so I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Maybe I can have a little bell that I ring when I need stuff? (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA). 

Put another way, I’ve fresh-started a new adventure. I’ll hopefully find out in the next couple of weeks how much of my right Achilles is actually left and whether it’s surgery or time & wishing that is the next step in my process of getting back on the bike. In the meantime, I’m feeling more than a little grateful to be travelling with the best of company. 

Thanks folks!