My butt is so sore that I can`t sit right (don`t be dirty--it`s not that kind of blog). Today I went mountain biking in the hills around San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas (Mexico), and that bike seat was so hard I swear to god I bruised my butt bones.
In addition to sore cheeks, I have a few scrapes and bruises and a bump on the head that proves I underestimated the technical difficulty of mountain biking. Yup, I was that one. Somebody had to go flying off their bike, and it was me. It happened while my dumb ass was speeding down a rocky, muddy hill and the woman in front of me skidded to a stop. I swerved to avoid her, bounced over a big rock then flew over the handle-bars. By instinct my arms flew out in front of me to break my fall, but by second instinct I pulled them back in to protect my shoulders. As a result, I fell on my face (thankfully I was wearing a helmet) and then tumbled over belly-up. For a split second I was happy that my shoulders were well situated in their sockets (just how I like them incidentally), and ten the bike crashed down on my head (again, thankfully I was wearing a helmet).
After a few choice words I said, "Fuck it! I quit!" I struggled to throw the bike off and sit up, but the guide rushed over and shoved me back down. He ordered the second guide, his German wife (surprisingly there are a good number of German ex-pats living in San Cristóbal) to elevate my feet. I meekly try to wiggle out of their grips, still grumbling for them to leave me be--"I`ll hitchhike back dammit!" The guide tells me to shut up and keep breathing. He keeps me there until my racing pulse returns to semi-normal and then makes me eat some candy to raise my blood sugar.
Once I had calmed down and sucked on the Carmelo a bit, I realized I wasn`t much worse for the wear. There was more mud than blood, my shoulders were still intact, and a few aspirins would cure that dull throbbing in my head. Slightly embarrassed about threatening to desert, I tried to smile (which I`m sure was more of a grimace) and said, "Vamos!"
And so my search for an outdoor adventure sport continues. I thought maybe that falling off the bike was like falling off a horse or wiping out while skiing--you can`t get better until you eat it a few times. But I don`t think I want to eat any more. We can cross mountain biking off the list. It will join scuba diving and surfing, due to my irrational fear of sharks and limited ability to swim. White water rafting and kayaking, while fun, are not my jam, so they are nixed too. I`m holding my breath for rock climbing. I`m not a fan of heights, but I think its high time that I conquer that fear. Not only would climbing make me feel like a bad ass, but I bet it will give me great shoulder definition and won`t hurt my ass!
amor y besos