After the fall...

 

"After the fall" © Mike Moore Studios 2024

August 19th, 2024. The calendar said it was a Monday, but my gut told me it was a victory lap. Another morning ride, then home for some graphic freelance magic, or maybe diving in to some domestic duty. Routine, right? Wrong. That day, I was cocky. Strutting around like a peacock with a death wish, thinking I was king of the trail. Looking back, I was overconfident, underprepared, and setting myself up for a date with gravity.

It wasn’t even a big jump. Hell, on the scale of extreme, it barely registered—a blip. But let me tell you, no amount of "visualize it, manifest it" was gonna save me when my shoulder met earth like grandma’s old Lincoln and her neighbor’s cat. Yeah, that hurt. Bad.

Fast forward six long weeks. I’ve scrolled through the entirety of the internet at least four times, mountain biking vids on repeat. Normal folks, superhero freaks—they all have something I was dying to get back: freedom on two wheels. Watching those videos? Torture. The real kind. The “you can look but don’t touch” brand of hell.

Yesterday, I went for the six-week follow-up with the doc. Good news? No surgery. But, surgery’s still on the table if I feel like playing mad scientist with my skeleton. Right now, the shoulder’s a little funky—like I could moonlight as the bell ringer at Notre Dame, but it’s not causing trouble. Just hanging out, reminding me it's there. Doc hit me with the “at your age” spiel, but wrapped it up with a casual, “Take it easy out there.”

So today, I took it as easy as I could stand. Eleven miles—part road, part off-road dirt—just a test run. Legs? Still kicking. Lungs? Holding up. Not bad. A few bone-rattling moments made it clear the shoulder isn’t 100% yet, but not in an “oh shit, I’m broken” kind of way. More like a friendly reminder: “We’ll get there, just not today.”

And you know what? Even after those measly 11 miles, I felt like a GAWD! Like I’d shed 50 pounds of funk, frustration, and futility. The comeback is real, and it’s on!

Have Fun!

Getting into it...

Getting Into It © Mike Moore Studios 2024

I like heading into the unknown. Moving forward devil may care. Admittedly, as the gray has increased, the urge to see what's out there has slacked...the level of excuses growing exponentially. Some grown up thing always keeping the mysteries at bay. The known is comfortable, you can snuggle up in it and drift off dreaming the sanitized dreams of the status quo. The unknown can be the best, worst, or some fiendishly twisted combination of the two. You dare not slumber on the unknown, lest you miss the pay, or the pain.

Get out there. Somewhere. Somehow. Get lost. Find yourself. Repeat.

Have Fun!

I feel ya...

"I Feel Ya" © Mike Moore Studios

Don't feel like I'm making much ground lately. Not sure why it matters, not much needs to get made, but still feel off pace. I've been down for a bit, trying to fight through, but it's hard. Our old boy Bucky will be leaving us soon, soon as in "the appointment's been made". This is our last weekend together. We're all sad, all dealing with it differently, but sad is the prevailing mood. I guess I've been sad, and slow for a while now. His health started declining during the home renovation we just went through, which had it's own share of still ongoing issues. Between the two funfests, my spark has dimmed.

Reckon like my friend up there though, even slow is still going.

Have Fun! 

 

There's gonna be some B.S. I tell ya...

"B.S. Dealer" © Mike Moore Studios 2024

Got to ride with this guy for a bit today. Didn't talk much, but he had an aura about him that radiated the unmistakeable truth that there was gonna be some b.s. He seemed expert on the matter. "It's always something" he oh so quietly divulged. I agreed as I pedaled on by, already making plans to seek his counsel on my next ride there.

Take note gentle reader, wisdom can be found all around us, sometimes even moistly plopping from the quivering poo chute of a two ton philosophizing bovine.

Have Fun!