Not At My Best

Yesterday I T-boned a little kid on the beach bike path. He wasn't more than 6-8 years old. I really scared him more than anything, no scrapes or cuts. And it happened while I was braking, but I wasn't stopped yet. I guess I'm trying to make this sound better than it is.

I think something happens to us when our blood is pumping fast, as in when carving. I know I have talked to a friend about how aggressive we become on the bike paths while jocky-ing for space.

That kid had been doing slow circles in the middle of the bike bath, both lanes. When I came upon him he started racing me in the pedestrian lane. He then waited and waited and waited and then turned right in front of me -- I couldn't stop. I was going too fast in my left curve of the carve. You see, I couldn't swerve right.

At that point a slew of brown words came shooting out of my mouth. I saw his red bike in the white sand. He was running back to his parent who was no where to be seen. I think he decided he was too far from mom and turned back. Who knows.

I didn't want to deal with an angry parent so I rode on. The kid was okay, it really was a slow hit, and he fell in the soft sand. I didn't even fall off the Trikke.

I was caught not at my best by only one witness, a kind bike guy who stopped to make sure everyone was okay. There was a very peaceful look on his face, I felt better for seeing him there. And yet I continued my salty tirade about that kid aiming for me for quite a distance. His look said take a breath, and I did. Then I smiled and rode on.

My blood was pumping fast as I was angry and just missed falling off the Trikke again. It was very hot. I felt like I was going to barf. My heart was all spent by the time I got to the pier, which was the half-way point.

I didn't want to go back the way I had come for two reasons: the wind was strong and the kid with his angry mother.

I am not proud of myself today. I was my father in that moment. I may have scarred a kid for life.

Afterthought -- I wasn't completely like my father, he'd have chased me down and beat me.

JTs Three-Wheel Zone

I have created a new label for all the posts on my blog that have to do with my Trikke called JTs Three-Wheel Zone. I'm just refreshing my brand if you will. After all, I am JT and I can do what I want here!

So look for some new posts and maybe re-posts of some of my favorites! Any suggestions?

Plus, look for me on Twitter as I tweet about my fitness challenge. I will post tips on fitness that maybe you don't know about. Don't worry I won't be making stuff up. I'll just pass on info that I find useful.

So, welcome to my world, the world of JT. And yes, I am full of myself. I'd have to be to think anyone is interested in my ramblings!

What is this "Sweet Spot"?

Me on Blue Birdie, my first Trikke

I have heard that term from the first day I got on my Trikke. It seems to mean many things, as many as people to define the term. Then an "old-timer" spelled it out for me in terms that even I understood.

The "sweet spot" is that spot when the Trikke hits the centrifugal force in the turn. And I thought it was when everything worked together to give one a smooth ride. I guess it still could mean that.

The one week anniversary of my face meeting the pavement was marked by the sweetest ride I think I have ever been on in my two years on a Trikke. Some rides it seems I can barely get into the groove but that day I was circling Rainbow Lagoon, or as we call it "the pond."

Every time I came around the folks at the pool I would slip into this ballet style dance. It felt as if I were a butterfly, alighting on one flower to the next. I don't think I will ever forget how good that felt. A bike sure can't give one that feeling of lightness and purpose.

I have read many stories of the Trikke "saving" the lives of one person to the next. I am one in that list. I was a chain-smoking, diabetic, TV-watching-24-hours-a-day-fool that weighted almost 300 pounds with a sugar addiction and suicidal tendencies.

The Trikke has not only given me a new lease on life (take that Dr. Oz) but it has also given me a new purpose as managing editor of TrikkeWorld Magazine.

I saw an acquaintance the other day for the first time in about 18 months, and he could barely contain himself when he saw me again.

My fountain of youth has three wheels on it.

OOPS! I did it again!

The very first time I mounted a Trikke, in a moment of panic, I jackknifed the handlebars and went flying. I landed on my face in the street and I wasn't wearing a helmet. I ended up with a ruddy nose and a black eye.

Last Thursday I was carving, I was in the zone, hitting that sweet spot, soaring on my Trikke, Black Birdie. Then, POP! The front fork dropped down, Boom! It felt like my front tire fell into a hole. It immediately stopped my Trikke but it did not stop me. Once again I flew over the handlebars and landed on my face in the street.

I was so dumbstruck I just sat there on the hot asphalt (actually a wonderful bike lane that Long Beach has provided us with -- thank you LB!) and wondered how I was going to pull myself up or even drag myself out of the street. It seemed like quite a while before anyone came across me there.

The first thing discovered was my front tire blew out. It was so bald the inner workings of the tire were exposed. What? I had recently added air to that tire! And my back tires are still in great shape. Yet at the Newport Beach Back Bay ride on 7/24/11, I seem to remember a fleeting thought that my front tire was aging. But a lot was going on and I forgot about it. 

So there it is, I was not paying attention to the condition of Black Birdie.

After my first trip over the handlebars I vowed to always wear a helmet. The sun guard on the helmet has grooves in it where my forehead hit the street. Those grooves would have been in my face.

So to recap, I did not pay attention to the condition of my Trikke. I did not check things out, and I hadn't for a long time. Oh sure, I squeeze my tires every couple of rides, but that's it. (And yes, I do know how to check the oil in a car.)

When something stupid happens to someone intelligent, one has to learn one's lesson quickly and move on. I have learned that lesson, and have a new interest in caring for Black Birdie. (And yes, I have been back on the horse that bucked me!)