Riding home from dinner on Saturday night, I looked like this.
Despite it being July in California, I am wearing a cashmere sweater dress under my jacket and that hat is wool (as were the socks inside my knee high boots). At this point I was pedaling pretty fast to get warmed up when I noticed a throbbing in my legs.
Why? I'll show you.
Yep. That is a big, lumpy bruise (pictured three days after I got it). I have three more just like it. All my own fault, no room to share the blame.
I was riding on Wednesday night, hell bent for leather to get to the bar before everyone else so I could get my hamburger order in before the hoards (I was hungry, what can I say?). I miscalculated a driveway and slammed the curb almost head on. Over the bars I went, or rather, straight through the bars I went bending light mounts, bells and brake levers alike. Fortunately, I know how to fall and landed on my back instead of my hands and face, with no other injuries than some bruised thighs that throb when the blood gets pumping through them.
The poor guys that saw me make a complete fool of myself came flying to my aide and were amazed when, from my back on the ground, I threw up my hands and yelled "I'm all right!" I was declared "bad ass" by those who witnessed my folly (James does not agree with the title and forbids me to fall off my bicycle anymore) and went in to get my food (priorities).
Moral of the story- When you are in a hurry, do not take the driveway : ) If you do manage to throw yourself off your bicycle, patterned tights do a great job of camouflaging your ignominy.