Yes, possibly I may be the clumsiest, most accident-prone person you will ever know.
When I wake up in the morning, there is usually an 85% chance that I will injure myself in some way before I even reach the bathroom- no joke.
Luckily, not everyone knows this about me, but those that do are constantly watching me as they feel I am a danger to myself in many situations (especially those involving fire, glass, and/or sudden changes in elevation)
As a child, I would stumble home on a daily basis covered in scrapes and bruises while my sister returned uninjured...my parents couldnt understand why. it made no sense, we played the same games and were always together-were my little sister and cousins taking turns beating me up? or was I just that incredibly accident-prone? The nightly rituals of antibacterial cream and bandage applications had become second nature. My grandmother would look on, horrified, and say that I would never be able to wear skirts as an adult because my legs were going to eventually look as if someone had run them over with a tractor.
Luckily, by the time I reached high school I had discovered that although I was not very graceful I was very good at walking in high heels. Heels changed my life! No matter how ungainly a woman is, if she walks well in heels she is afforded at least 200 extra glamour points instantly.
My excellent abilities as a skilled high heel-wearer have enabled me to pass under the radar and in turn keep my clumsy nature hidden from public knowledge (more or less). Not many will believe that the same girl that is able to run at full-speed on cobblestone in 5 inch strappy heels( at an incline) is virtually incapable of walking across her living room without violently slamming her shoulder into the same corner of the same wall every day. Yes, I that have walked many a white-washed mountain village of Andalucia in 6 inch platform wedges cannot cut vegetables without supervision and have nearly beheaded myself on several occasions by merely losing my footing in the shower.
Seeing that you all now know my dark little secret, you may find it amazing that I dared to do something no sane clumsy person of my age would ever do.....I went mountain biking for the first time! I dont know what came over me at the time, but when Ade asked if I would accompany him on a bike ride through the Casa de Campo park here in Madrid I quickly responded "yes", even though in my head I was frantically trying to recall the last time I had actually been on a bike at all!The last memory I have of biking regularly was when i was 10, I would go for daily rides on my pink Huffy dirt bike in the parking lot next door - but that bike's brakes were located on the pedals and I dont think it even had any gears! What had I gotten myself into? I smiled at him feigning confidence when in reality I had just hammered the last nail into my coffin- this would be the end of me. How was I going to survive an hour and a half long OFF-ROAD bike ride when i can't even manage to walk very far without tripping! I was convinced I would never make it back alive.
The day came for the trip, and Ade arrived outfitted in his biking gear. He handed me a helmet and announced that we would be biking to the park. TRAFFIC??? Im not sure if my eyes bulged out of my head or not at the thought of actually riding a bike in Madrid traffic, but at that point I was sure that I would never even make it to the actual park! We set off, and miraculously I managed to arrive at the park in one piece although I probably came very close to taking out a few old people and baby carriages on the way. As we began the trek I was feeling a bit more confident, the scenery was breathtaking and it was really liberating being able to ride over mountain paths filled with sudden drops and crazy branches and roots everywhere. However my feelings of euphoria quickly plummeted when we reached a series of hills that were so painful to get up that it was as if I had never used my leg muscles before in my entire life. Is this what Clara felt when she took her first steps towards Heidi? The pain was excruciating. As I struggled to the summit I envisioned each of my hamstrings snapping in two like tightly wound little rubber bands, would he have to carry me out of here? Also, the pain in my butt was becoming UNBEARABLE.... I remember laughing that afternoon as he mentioned he had an extra pair of padded biker shorts for me- I though it was the most ridiculous thing in the world for me to even consider wearing butt padding when that is one area where I am quite well padded naturally! haha Clearly I had been wrong. Biking has had no effect on Cuban evolution, as I can tell you first-hand that Cuban genetic butt padding does not offer very good protection against rock hard bicycle seats especially not after 1 hour of riding. I felt as if I would never be able to sit down again, wincing every time I had to rest my full weight on the seat. As I hallucinated about rooms filled with padded sofas and big plush chairs where I could rest my aching rump- I managed somehow to get to the top of the last huge hill. "We're almost done, Rodriguez, all you have to do is keep to the right to avoid a lot of the ditches and rocks, and you'll be in the clear!!" and in an instant Ade is making his way down the hill at lightning speed as I stare down the long path and mentally prepare myself for the long ride down.
I kick off and as I begin to pick up speed another biker starts heading up the hill, I am going faster than I have ever gone in my life and soon begin to panic that I may be too close to him- will I accidentally hit him on the way down? Am I insured for this kind of thing? Before I can think about any other obstacles I begin to pick up so much speed that the bike commences to move from side to side and I realize that I am losing control. I begin to imagine the moment in E.T.when Elliot's bike shakes so violently that it looks as if it is going to fall to pieces but instead gloriously takes flight- only I seem to be the only one flying as my bike hits the ground, my head crashes against the handlebars and into the ground and that little bastard E.T. is nowhere to be found.
(post-accident me)
I dont remember trying to scream as i fell, but apparently I must have because my mouth was open when I hit the ground- I know this because as other bikers rushed to my aid and asked me how I was I could only make a sound as if I were trying to cough up a hairball- my throat had filled up with dried grass and dirt. I managed to clear my throat in time to see Ade running toward me white as a sheet as I tried to smile weakly- later he explained that from a distance since my mouth was full of dirt as I opened my mouth to smile he thought I had knocked out all my teeth!!
We managed to get me home and all cleaned up, and although the scrapes on my face looked pretty gross at first they eventually went away in 5 days which was great seeing that I had a wedding to go to that following weekend! It was strange seeing how differently people look at you on the street when your face is covered in scabs- either they stare unabashedly or they look away and avoid you altogether. I found myself walking with my head down a lot just to avoid eye contact- very weird.
In any case, I'm happy to report that there were no lasting effects aside from the fact that I felt like I was 10 all over again walking around with my knees completely scraped up for a good 3 weeks... my parents almost killed me themselves after finding out that I tried to be like a "normal kid"- they were very adamant that I realize my limitations as an accident prone person and not continue to put myself into situations that could result in maiming or death. I can't say that I wont ever try biking again, I liked the freedom of off-roading and the feeling of recklessness it gives you to ride over rough terrain with just a sliver of a path in sight. But for now if I ever decide to embark on another biking adventure at least I will remember to wear several layers of padded pants, to use my brakes while going downhill even if 5 yr old kids with training wheels pass me, and to never leave the house without investing in a full crash helmet- who knows maybe I will start a trend?
(this photo was taken 1 week after....look no scars!! thanks, neosporin!!)
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