Dukes Up

I am sitting here drinking a beer and nursing my knee. And counting my blessings.

I went for a ride today, and I felt pretty good. Unlike yesterday, I had good legs and actually enjoyed my ride.

Two miles from home I was passing by our local Bel Air. I made it past the two main entrances. As I was passing the rear entrance, behind the store, where you rarely see anybody, I reached down for my water bottle. An Acura MDX came flying out. I looked up. The driver saw me and slammed on the brakes. The bumper stopped six inches short of my lower leg.

She mouthed "sorry" to me and I shouted the F-word as I rode by, my way of saying, "I accept your apology!"

The truth is I was more mad at myself than her. I let my guard down. I didn't keep my dukes up.

I have survived 28 years on the road by being ever vigilant. I see things before they happen. I scan the horizon like the Terminator:

Idiot driver right, unpredictable pedestrians ahead.

But this time I slipped up. If that bumper would have hit me, I was probably looking at a torn up knee or an unpleasant tib/fib fracture.

It was only after I had returned home and showered that I realized I had hurt my knee. I must have flinched when my friend tried to rearrange my bone structure.

Sometimes a close call can be a beneficial, a refresher course in vigilance, a reminder to keep your dukes up.