On Monday evening, I was riding my CitiBike home from work and I noticed the gears were messed up. I plowed on anyway and when I was trudging up an annoying street, sweating in my heavy scarf, the gear skipped and I went flying off of my seat. I swerved all over the place, my body was in a position between the handlebars and the seat...I'm sure it was quite a show.
I righted myself, glanced around, and quickly got back on the seat and kept riding. Nothing to see here, people!!!
As I started up again, my right arm felt wrong. I kind of had to half-walk/half-ride my bike while I tried bending it and moving it around. Of course, in my panic, I thought it could be broken.
I felt a wash of stress and regret fall upon me. I knew the gears were messed up, why did I not switch the bike? Will I need to go get an X-Ray? Can they just scan it on a telehealth call?!
I just wanted to get home, eat dinner and watch The Crown! And in true NYC fashion, I was trying to spend as little time traveling, as possible.
In my rush, I had created a bigger problem for myself. I wished that I had just taken my time. Given myself time to enjoy the ride. To enjoy the journey.
Turns out, my arm was totally fine. By the time I got home, the muscles had relaxed and it was just sore. (I still huffed and puffed a bit and feared a broken bone but that's just the hypochondriac in me).
I found this whole incident to be important because I am always in a hurry. And in that hurry, I tend to allow my judgement to be clouded.
Let's enjoy the journey. And slow down.
Switch out that bike. Stop at that yellow light.
I think that when we do, we are in a greater state of flow, and we all want that. Oprah says so.
I'm off to watch The Crown now and to allow The Queen to whisk me away from my (not) broken (but still sore) arm! Could you see Sean's eye roll from where you are?