That's what I get for exercising.

Interesting weekend, weather-wise around here. We hit 80 on Saturday, followed by a high in the 40s on Sunday! Craaaaazy. Luckily, we had warning that this is how it would be, so Saturday, J and I decided to get in a bike ride down by the lake before the cold hit.

We biked down the Town Lake trail, checked out the cool pics that are now part of the bridge along 1st Street (FINE - call it Cesar Chavez if you will, but when it was 1st Street, people knew where it was), headed back to the East side where we had parked, then decided to ride past our new house. That's where it all went wrong.

There are rail tracks around that area, and I had ended up kind of among them. I knew that I should get clear of them, but was watching for a spot where there wasn't a gap between the rail and the pavement - minimize the chance of catching my tire in the tracks. J, apparently, had the same concerns. I heard him say something to me and thought he was telling me to turn onto the street we were passing. So, I turned abruptly...right into a groove between the rail and pavement.

My wheel caught, stopping my bike while my body continued forward. I managed to jump clear of the bike as it went down, stumbled forward for what seemed like about 50 steps, then just as I thought I might have my feet under me, my torso pitched forward, and I had no choice but to put my hand down to catch myself. Few things feel as awesome as skin on pavement. If you'd like to check it out yourself, some of mine is still there, down around 3rd Street and Pedernales.

I ended up scraping the crap out of the lower part of my palm and jamming my middle finger on my left hand. It could've been far worse, but that's been enough to cause some discomfort the last couple of days. I think we're all relieved to know that even with my hand all banged up, I can still play my bass, though. We had rehearsal yesterday. The show must go on, you know. :) Oh, and for the record, J wasn't telling me to turn. He was telling me I shouldn't be riding in the rail tracks. Irony, right? (Yes, Alanis Morrisette - that's what irony is. Not rain on your wedding day.)

Anyway, this was on top of banging my head into a cabinet door when I sneezed the other day, so I think I may have some sort of self-destructive streak in my subconscous that I'm unaware of. Or possibly someone has voodoo-dolled me. I find that uncharitable, especially at Christmastime. Santa's gonna be leavin' someone some coal.