At the Hospital

Getting to the hospital, we surveyed what we might need inside and wished we hadn't just cleaned out the car. The pavement was hot in socks, and there was a sweaty musk in my bike shorts and gear. The phone call came right as the group ride back was starting on bike-to-work Monday. Cleats were tossed aside by the bike and all attention was set to getting to the hospital.

His dad arrived first and was with him in the imaging room getting a CT scan. Grandpa arrived next, hugging my other two children close and then saying a prayer while we waited. Finally, the doors opened and the ER nurse called our family back to the room.

My sweet baby boy writhed in agony. We all stared at him trying to decide who was in more shock, him or us. The only comfort I could provide was consent to treat. He swelled in pain and retreated under narcotic effect. The pain came in ripples and tidal waves.  He would pant or breath hold and we knew it was rough, but he was on top of it. Other times, he would lay back and disappear, floating just above himself, discovering savasana. 

Every move - ice chips, IV, pillow fluff - caused pain. A second scan for head and neck injury meant he had to keep the neck brace in place. This is really painful when your collarbone is shattered. Hours later, they splinted his leg, broken in three places, and sent us home.

Getting to the car was a 6-person effort. Every inch was a trick to see what was possibly mobile, since all of his injuries were to the one side. Eventually, we made it and he dozed off in the late night, never having eaten dinner or allowed to drink water. Getting to the house, he vomited all over his feet, the driveway, and me. 

He was broken apart, but alive. 

Oh the Facebook of it All

An interaction on Facebook has me all worked up this morning. A friend made a complaint, and friends chimed in with shared frustration. The drivers who weren't actually experiencing the interaction were jumping to anger over the reality that bicycles are occupying space on the road. Here's what I'm thinking. I want to resurrect the human status of cyclists by sharing my experience, and also recall the legality of the choice. 

{Did I mention I ride bikes? You guys know this because you're here and probably got here because you know me personally or you ride bikes. Not everyone agrees with my choices, but we can at least civilly disagree.}

When a driver and I disagree about a lane use issue. The exchange is typically punctuated by honking. Sure, that's predictable, but I invite you to an experiment. Try this. Set your 3 year old in the driver seat of your car, obviously not running or in any way powered on. Just set the child in front of the steering wheel's horn button. Now, go stand in front of the car facing the same direction of the vehicle with it behind you. Wait, and then see what happens. 

Often in-motion lane use arguments are much more brutal: A bus driver passes and tips my helmet with the mirror of the bus, nearly spilling me into a rash of poison ivy in the culvert of the road. The mini van mama screams obscenities through an open window while honking and cutting into the lane in front of me to turn right. A one-ton truck driver discards the remnants of a fast food drink, including cup, and then accelerates heavily to leave me in a puff of exhaust. All of these examples have happened to me this year. Everyday I ride my bike, I have an encounter like this.

Please pause and think about the last time you were walking and somebody threw a drink cup at you, screamed obscenities, or just straight up hit you. What was that like for you?

It happens to me every single day that I ride my bike. My humanity wants me to believe this type of interaction isn't normal and doesn't characterize the morality of the individual. I try to lift the interaction out of the well by responding with a super-big smile and wave, "Have a good day!"

(Would you shoot a person who is smiling and waving? It's my only defense on my 20-lb bicycle against a 3,500lb vehicle.)

This is a real fear. Regularly, cyclists are physically assaulted. A driver has pulled a gun on me while riding my bike. I happened to have been pregnant at the time.

People who ride bikes are people. In my case, I'm a mom of three kids. I manage a team of engineers for a major corporation. I also teach yoga for peace, and math to little kids. I pay taxes on my car, my home, and my income. 

When I ride my bike, I am not trying to take anything from you. I'm trying to get to work. When I ride in a peloton, I am not trying to prevent you from using the road. I'm getting a workout. Any delay you experience will likely be short, and I appreciate you waiting until it is safe to pass. 

Not the Spa

My commute is better than yours. That is all.

Lean

If you're reading this, you probably know me or you share my love of bikes. If you know me, you know my love of bikes... and of pictures of my bikes. If you're reading this, you have likely made fun of my Leans. So, I offer the latest installment.

Tried a new route to work. The map showed a greenway extension, and my mind could see bits of where I thought I remember it joining. I started out pretty well. The path was more bridle path than expected, until it was more of a hiking path. I was climbing rocks along a creek bank to get around trees. It turned out not to be a shortcut, but it sure was nice.

In the Quiet in the Dark

I have a confession. Today I rode my bike for the second time in many months. Yes. Only two times in maybe three or four months, and one was last week. Life has thrown me some fast balls and some curve balls, and I'm holding on to keep up with all of the action. I made it - the miles are mine again.

Last week I found myself scared on the way home. I was well-dressed for the weather, and lit up like a rolling Christmas tree with all my lights. I didn't understand my own reaction, except to say we are close to the winter solstice and light is scarce. I was easily startled. Maybe it was because the shadows on a trail move faster than you expect when rolling through the dark.

I did a repeat tonight to test myself. My phone blared music while I bounded through miles of greenway in the night. About the time Bruce Springsteen came on, I caught my groove. The song reminded me of the nights in high school when we would drive out to the swamp with the windows down to listen to the croak of the alligators.

Can't wait for daylight savings to end!

I am the Lorax

Last night I attended a workshop hosted by the RDU authority discussing the potential uses and land designations. The night played out much the way it did when I protested the development of a treed land area in my hometown that is currently covered in an apartment complex. The big developer put on the airs of caring about the tree-hugging contributions of the constituents. The people cited a number of data points demonstrating that they are not actually listening. The meeting was halted by the Communications designee from the airport authority. So, I sit down here to write to you what I feel in my heart... about the way we were treated, about the way of the business, and my sadness about what will be lost. Here are the major takeaways.

The introduction and the bulk of the meeting talked about FAA requirements for noise and a map detailing the sound levels in the area. The speaker tried to paint this as forethought of the authority to examine the needs of the region as required by law.

The Q&A was when Dr. Jean Spooner from the Umstead Coalition stood and asked about the thousands of comments received. She wondered what modifications were made as a result. The speaker responded that the map was updated to include Recreation areas. She clarified that the legend was updated to include 'Office/Hotel/Recreation' instead of just 'Office/Hotel'. The speaker confirmed this was the modification he meant. No other changes have been over the course of four public meetings.

A second audience member asked about the feasibility of eliminating the rock quarry proposal from the drawing. She polled the audience for support of a rock quarry. One individual was in support, the remainder of the room opposed. Later, John Williams explained to me that the map is not a recommendation, but a potential use map.

A third audience member was closer and I could not hear the question. It was clear that the audience felt like their concerns were not getting heard, and wanted a different outcome than the proposal.

At this time, Sig Hutchinson, a Wake County Commissioner, interjected. He cautioned the audience from getting too upset. He encourage the individuals to continue to provide their comments via the appropriate forums, and tried to assuage our fears about the apparent deaf ears of the airport authority.

My personal experience is that I couldn't hear much more. Kristie VanAuken (VP Communications and Community Affairs) stepped in front of me. She said to the person next to her that she was going to stop this and pull the mic. She exited the room, re-entered at the front, and shut the conversation down.

We milled about and tried to make sense of how to have an impact on making a positive choice for our beloved parks. How do you propose to a businessman with the potential income of a hotel at $200 per night over 100 units was less valuable than getting to ride with the 10 and under group on Wednesday afternoons through the pump and jump tracks.

Here are some of the ways I have used this park. Going places in order to avoid cars and driving. I do this a lot, but here are 3 pretty examples.

At a crossroad

Rolling cyclocross near sunset

Getting over I-40

If any of this is meaningful to you, please send some comments to support us. https://vision2040.rdu.com/comments/

NC HB959 - FOUR Feet Please

As a driver, I don't want to share my lane with anything else. The lane I am traveling in at the time I am traveling is mine. I feel the same way when I'm on a bike. I appreciate it when a driver gives a full pass by taking measures to pass me as if they are overtaking any other vehicle.

Wait for a clear view and passing distance, cross all the way into the other lane, and then cross back into the forward moving lane. 

Gosh this sounds nice. If we use this as a basis for passing, it becomes easier to understand a two column pace line. It's a shorter pass, and it's easier on the athletes. And man, yay. Thanks for being courteous. Well, you can imagine that rarely happens. You can tell when a driver also rides bikes.

A really exciting law change came up in North Carolina. House Bill 959 has granted us a number of safety protections. The first of these laws went into effect on October 1st, and allows drivers to pass bicycles or mopeds in no passing zones with at least 4 feet of clearance. 

The rest of the changes take effect on December 1st, and include a law requiring cyclists to have a rear light (in addition to the already required front light) or wear reflective clothing that is visible from at least 300 feet, the official recognition of the right hand turn signal, and harsher penalties and fines for drivers who cause a cyclist to run off the road, change lanes, or crash.

Are you ready? I'm ready.

A photo posted by @heartspoken.ninja on Mar 8, 2016 at 2:44pm PST

Bike to School

The ride to school today has been a long time coming. I thought they would just naturally want to ride their bikes because the freedom is so great. Turns out, getting driven is easier. Traffic as it is, I have been inclined to oblige their whims.

Our new place tho? Totally bike-able. Boy has been asking for an apple watch which I told him (a) he could have if he could keep up with all of his things and (b) he would need to have if he was biking to school all the time.

And so this day happened. Some people look forward to first steps or graduating from kindergarten - this is my proud mama moment. My son biked to school for the first time.

Ban Fracking y'all

The other night, I did an exercise. In three phases, you describe your dream in full color detail to another person. You actually put a voice to your heart's greatest desire. We repeated the two minute recitation of what happens a year after achieving this dream, and then ten years later. Unsurprisingly, the first session is touched marked with a lot of fear. If it was easy, wouldn't everyone already be doing it? The second phase for me was way less encumbered. It was exploratory and exciting, and I can't wait to get there. In the third session, I described an altered state of my current life. It's a mirror life to the one I lead now, with a different continent and way of life -- but I'm still me. I have the same values. I have the same moral code. And I'm free.

I tell you this, because I can't wait to get to the beginning, middle, and end of all these pieces. I'm so lucky to live my beautiful life. I'm so enamored with my children, my friends, my job, and my daily. I can clearly see all kinds of ways forward from here.

Just delivered my children and parked my fuel-efficient vehicle to hop on the bike. Yesterday started with yoga and a bagel. Living the dream! (My dreams anyway)

Next step: get the children biking to school. 

Next-next step: paddle boards and trailer. 

Next-next-next step: scuba certs for the kids. 

Next-next-next-next step: sailboat. 

Challenge Anew

Sometimes we judge people. Sometimes the person I'm judging is me. I had a day that... if I were not me... I might judge.

I hit up a learning session at a dev conference, followed it up with the farmer's market and my son's soccer game. If I had quit there, it wouldn't be enough. I went home via the biodiesel shop that is also a remarkable vintner and organic produce stand. By the time my sister arrived from across the state after her apple-picking adventure, any connection to my tree hugging self was lost to my elitist counterpart.

Guilt has set in. There's an oil spill in Alabama. I have means and ability to do better. These aren't first or third world issues. Alabama has real world / in your face / here because of our wastefulness Issues.

I'm looking at my week, and I hope you will too. Where can you streamline your trips? Can you do more with less? How? Find it. Do it.

Morning commute win!

Still trying to learn the area of my new job. Siri wants me to pedal some big roads while google maps drops me off onto some overgrown grassy area the almost connects to the greenway. The bridge was closed too. And then I found myself here.

Some situational irony: I'm at this spot when I get a text, "where do we go from here?"

Well. Exactly. I am here, and here I find myself.

Bike packing attempt 1: chicken church to shakori. Total success.

Admittedly, I set out later than you should in summer. I wasn't worried. I don't mind heat and I had plenty of water.

Let's roll back a few months. I saw a picture of a road that simply ended with the caption "sink hole". I paid little attention because it was across a lake far from any of my regular routes.

EXCEPT THIS DAY, of course. On this day, I totally found the closed road due to sink hole.

I detoured around the steepest golf course around. On our first really hot day. It was the smallest lateral mileage, but clearly the most climb. I would have known this had apple kept up with the sink holes in america.

I got a little grouchy. A little tired. I called for a pick up.

The ride didn't come through, and I was still suffering. I took a minute. I sat down on the roadside and drank in steady breath and shade. I realized I was shivering and began connecting the dots. I sent a text to my heart spoken ninja who would figure it out from a distance if necessary - "Have heat stroke. GPS pin here."

When my symptoms abated enough, and I got back on the bike. Here began the suffering. It was a mile up the road and around the bend to the grocery story. I zombie'd myself into the store and bumped into the perfect person - a product guy holding a monstrous wedge of watermelon on a stick. The grocery stores here are so cool because they sell odd lawn furniture. In this case, there was a hammock. I laid down in the air conditioned hammock with a couple watermelon popsicles and waited for recovery to find me.

When I set back out, I had a record-breaking 5mph pace including rest. The spot in this picture was a swimming hole. I stopped for ice a few miles later before I saw the shot gun adorned sign "Enter at your own risk."

I slept in a hammock under stars this night after an amazing set of live music. Maybe bad things also happened on this adventure, but I choose to remember showering in a farm shower in the forest and waking up to cold-brewed coffee. Long live Shakori.

3 Feet Please

This is Steven. He's cool for lots of reasons, and one of them is his brass commitment to safety. He believes people should be able to ride bikes safely on the road. He and I share this belief.

Notice the 3' pole that points straight left off of his handlebar. This is how far away you need to be to pass a bike safely. Notice that this requires a passing vehicle to enter into the oncoming lane if they wish to pass. This is desirable. I wish to share the road with you, but not my lane. I'm in it. I'm going to go ahead and use it.

Rising Above

This is such a happy sight for me. Not because it is a happy picture, but because I'm not involved in it. My detachment from the feeling of trapped inside a vehicle was glorious as I biked across the bridge. 

Pollen season

I took a cup of coffee with me as I left the house. Sip, pedal, sigh. So happy.

A mile later, I pour out a little dribble from the top to clear a small amount of pollen that collected on the lid. Whatever. Sip, pedal, sigh. So happy.

The second time I went for a sip, I had to actually lose some coffee. Hm. Ok. Sip, pedal, sigh. Happy.

I'm not the squirmish type. I don't really mind pollen, except that it irritates my eyes in the wind. Sunglasses help. When I had to quit drinking my coffee because there was a coffee-pollen paste in the lid, I used some foul language. Unacceptable!

I saw a unicorn!

Maybe you know that my friend and I are doing some Heart Spoken jerseys?

Yesterday morning I was on the phone with Rachel, and I wound up driving on the road that I usually bike on. (Don't be mad. Sometimes I drive a car.)

The coolest thing happened! I SAW ANOTHER FEMALE BIKE COMMUTER! I did what any other giddy driver would do... No, no - I didn't run her off the road - I stopped to give her one of our jerseys.

I hope she wears it and that it protects her, even if for just a moment. We need to stand up for each other. We need to help each other. We need to protect each other, regardless of how we're getting to work in the morning.

Cause I'm #reflective like that

Picked up a great new reflective Sugoi jacket in the REI sale. Very happy about this.

Man Bites Dog

Barking and chasing are terrifying. When this yappy dog followed me, I was not immune. I picked up and kicked harder. There's no telling what a dog would do if he catches the mailman, and I'm not staying to find out. He put on a chase of a five or six houses along a busy street. This resilience confirmed my good choice to ride harder.

This morning I passed the opposite direction. This means that the dog had to cross into traffic to give chase. And he did. The poor thing chased me from across several lanes of busy morning traffic. Like a child, he realized in the middle of the road that he was actually IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. He retreated towards his house, and I was relieved. 

And then I heard the sound of small dog impacting a blue sedan and then yelping. The small dog scurried away from the stopped vehicle and towards a house.

I went back to check on my foe. Beer bottles, a broken dresser, and an empty/open dog crate on the porch. No car. I called out for the owner or the dog. The response was from a much larger dog chained up in the back. 

I quickly left and called Animal Protection Services to check on the welfare of the dog. I'm trying not to feel guilty, but it was an awful encounter. 

Day 1 trial of the jersey

Walking out the door, my co-worker makes a “Your mom” joke. (minus 1)

But man, it feels super great. (plus 1)

And the weather is perfect! (plus 2)

I left a little before 5, the worst possible time to try to get home. The sun is at an angle, and the roads are at their peak. (potential… how does that score?)

Usually, it is a harrowing feat to cross US70. Today, traffic stopped for me and let me thru to the turn lane. (plus 1)

I didn’t get a single honk, even for my #boobs … Which is weird. (plus 5)

Calling it a win.

I am someone's Mom

I've written a lot about the aggression I experience from people who drive cars. When we are sitting in a cafe at breakfast, it is a way less hostile exchange. Less dangerous. All around, just a better time.

I had this idea that if I wore a jersey with the word "MOM" on the back, maybe people driving the cars around me would be less... awful? nasty? dangerous?

I pay taxes and I have a job. I'm a mom and I volunteer. I shouldn't have to claim my place in society just to have this space of road. I have to get tow work. I would otherwise be using this same space with a car.

And then Rachel, one of my most beloved soul sisters, made me this.

http://ift.tt/20fitKw