Last week I started to draft a Rosh Hashanah post, but all I wanted to write about was biking. My new found love of biking, of commuting on my bike, of my confidence, of my new relationship to food. I wanted to write about how much I loved biking with friends and talking to them as we pedaled through Chicago.

Two months ago, this was my bike. Up on the bike stand at Uptown Bikes, making sure that everything was ready for me to start riding.

This is my bike today. On the bike stand at Uptown Bikes while I get the news that all they can do is salvage parts for me.

When the EMTs rolled me into the Emergency Room they said “Auto vs. cyclist.” I’m home from the hospital and was home yesterday afternoon.

My friends and family have been great. Amy raced to the hospital. A cousin picked me up. Two friends stopped by last night with treats and another with breakfast today. My dad is en route.

I’m very sad to lose my bike. It was a gift from a customer, my last tie to the ice cream parlor and the good parts of working there. I’m sad to lose the freedom and the exercise. The long rides with friends.

I’m alive. I was wearing a helmet.

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