Four weeks ago today, our good friends Ben and Rebekah invited Dan and I to go mountain biking. Ben has recently taken a great interest in the sport, and Rebekah, his devoted and loving wife, has decided to get into biking as well to spend time with her man. We were thrilled to have an excuse for an evening out and Dan was excited to return to riding, something he hasn't done in awhile. There was only one problem...
I don't like mountain biking. I know this to be true. I had several bad experiences during summer camp as a teen where we were forced to go on rugged trails through the woods, attempting to balance our bikes on tiny logs over deep ditches. Quite frankly, the sport freaks me out. I'm all for biking on nice, paved trails. I enjoy the workout. But throw in some loose gravel, protruding roots, and rough terrain, and, well, I'm politely deciding to cling to life.
But everyone was so convincing. Dan sacrificed his helmet for me. Rebekah offered her old bike. They said the scenery was beautiful.
And it was. Despite the fact that I am out of shape and was frantically trying to keep up with my more experienced counterparts, I was beginning to enjoy myself. Ben and Bekah only took us on the intermediate trails, God bless 'em, even though they usually enjoy the more advanced.
Until I hit the root. My bike lurched, the seat came up and popped me square in the tailbone. It was the sensation of hitting your funny bone...not so much painful as just intense. But I was o-kay.
Or so I thought.
Four weeks later, I still can't sit down. Later that night, I was racked with pain and Dan (you'll not find a better husband, I'm convinced) was logged onto WebMD, trying to console me.
"Laura, even if it is broken, there's nothing we can do. The muscles around it will hold the bones in place. Here's a Motrin and an icepack."
Of course it would happen to me, out of everyone! Here's to the adventurous spirit...and hoping I can one day sit again without pain!