Daily Dose of Death:

It is hard waking up, knowing that you have to face death.  It is even harder when you see death, and it is the worst when you know you were so close to death.


It has  been week two, and three and going on four, I have biked to work and home 4 out of 5 days to my work.  I love to bike, and it frees my mind, it is a time to organize and let go, but at the same time it is a fight to stay alive....not the fight our military has to face, not the fight our children have to go through each and every day through their daily upbringings, trying to figure out who they really are, but a true fight, for life.

I ride in rain, sleet, gorgeous blue bird days, I like to ride...what I hate is the anxiety of never letting my eyes off the road.  To some that may be easy, to others like myself who suffer from ADHD, it is a challenge.  I rode my bike in 30 degree temps for about a week or two, my hands were cold, fingers numb, my face had no expression except concentration.  What was I concentrating on...life.   The ability to survive the 12 .3 miles it takes me to ride to or from work safely.   I asked my husband what I should be weary of, on a day it was 30 degrees and pouring rain....he said don't ride on the painted lines.  Painted lines.  They may look big to those who drive along side them in a car, in fact you may curse a many cyclist for being too close to the  lines they are driving near, but let me tell you about the painted lines.  For one:  painted lines are made for the gas guzzling vehicle, two: if you are not a gas guzzling vehicle you loose, three: stay away from the painted lines.   This may sound confusing to you, but let me explain....We as bikers, cyclists if you will, are not meant to go beyond the painted line, it is our safety zone, where we feel secure, oblivious to the surroundings around us....this is bullshit.

What you don't see between the slim line protecting vehicle drivers from driving off the edge of the road or warning drivers that there is no shoulder, is the biking lane.  It is small at times the size of a mountain bike tire, at random occasions it is wide and wonderful.   Those wonderful times exist few and far between.  There are dead animals, metal, broken glass, gravel, trash, a random bottle or two...it is a nightmare.   I have to say, that the joy of biking turns into an adventure course where ninja warriors abound....This is my daily dose of death.  I swerve, curve, bobble, and bound, I jump, sway, maneuver and pray, that I will not find that metal object you threw out of your car, or the nail that happened to appear.   The cracks alone give me anxiety....if I get my tire in between the crevices, they pop...oh so not cool. The lines are slick, like ice on a rainy day, they toss you to the side if you turn on them at the wrong time.  They are the enemy.
        I now know the favorite drinks of people by the trash they throw outside, Franzia wine, Yoohoo, Amp drinks, Cavit wine....these are the things I view daily,  10 boxes of Franzia alone on Barber farm road...and when did chocolate milk become a forbidden drink so that we need to discard the debry....I hate that I cannot take my eyes off the road to view the soaring hawk, 10 feet away, or the fact that I cannot pull my sleeve down because my arm is frozen and I have 10 more miles to go....if I bobble, sway or swerve, I am dead, or seriously injured.  It is hard to face everyday.  Yet it is a fact that I did not take into account when I drove my vehicle that night.  One swerve, one twist, one mistake and I and my children would be dead.   It is something I have to wake up to everyday.  It is something you should wake up to everyday.  

I was suppose to get my license back this week, but the system tells me different.  Instead of a month of suspension, I will have nearly 2 months suspension...because you need to complete a crash course before you get your license back. a crash course that is full and overflowing. and takes you two weeks to get into...costing my family nearly 3,000 $ financially, anxiety between children's routines and  normality, and being a burden on society.  I will dance with my daily dose of death...for another 16 days......it hurts, sucks and pretty much makes me nauseous everyday...but it is what needs to be done to figure out how lucky I am.

I am here, and want to make sure that you are here....think before you drive that car, think before you play with the music on  your cell phone, think before you turn your head to look at your child asleep in the backseat ..for you are playing with Death. One second and it is over.

I am thankful for the reminders, even though they are painful, they make me face what I took for granted, or did not want to visualize.  I awake to a daily dose of death, And now  I go out and make sure it does not happen again.

Thank you again to all the families that have given my children a sense of normalcy.  To my husband who gives me strength   and most of all to my children for their ability to love through thick or thin....It is with all of this combined strength that I can wake up and ride on.