Between Community and Freedom

My health update and safety on group rides

As I lay on the asphalt after my bike accident, I focused my attention on breathing. This meditation technique helped me maintain composure and consciousness. While I was trying to breathe, a man, a NOT-good-man (in my opinion), was leaning on me and putting his arm across my body. I shudder as I remember the feeling of his weight and body heat on my torso while I struggled to stay calm. Unlike the other Good Samaritans helping me, his presence terrified me. We had chatted once before on a ride, but I did not appreciate his aura and chose never to engage with him. I still do not understand why he believed he had the privilege to lean across my body and put his weight on me…especially after such an enormous trauma. As I reflect on it, I feel small and sad.  

I separately told two familiar men around me that I didn't like this NOT-good-man and that I needed him to get away. I was relieved when I saw that my superhero friend Shannon, the Army Veteran medic, had shown up. She had also dealt with the creepiness of this NOT-good-man. Anyone that knows her will appreciate that she is a force to reckon with. After multiple verbal warnings, he finally backed away. Shannon took his spot and nuzzled me in an act of genuine affection that I am likely to remember my entire life. With her there, I returned to channeling my energies for what lay ahead. Her actions embodied the proactive community care that I wish to see within my community.

Since my post last week, I have been to the hospital three times. A friendly face from my WhatsApp group transported me to and fro each time. I have learned that my ankle was fully dislocated and that at least three bones are out of wack in my wrist. I have surgery on Friday where a metal plate and three screws will enter my wrist through an incision. Each of my limbs is out of commission for 6-8 weeks. I have been advised to lay horizontally and elevate my tattered right-side limbs. Besides sleeping, I like doing only one activity, mostly horizontal. Alas, I will be learning to read and brood with my limbs above my heart level.

For the last week, I have had an uncountable stream of visitors. My fridge is full, and my heart overflowing. One silver lining here is that I can see how beautiful the Atlanta cycling community is. While I anticipate a change in the rush of support, I know that I am surrounded by loving people. For this reason, I also wish to galvanize some conversations around the etiquette and considerations in organized group rides. So far, some ride leaders have already taken a proactive approach to addressing ride guidelines. This affirmative change feels like putting safety first. 

While no one can force another to act, it speaks to the character and content of leadership to make responsible, forward-thinking choices. The weekly ride M+M (where I was injured) has grown quickly to become Atlanta's most popular group ride. However, in a post after my accident on their ride, it appears that the ride organizers are pointing to individual riders to be better while ignoring the importance of verbalizing and maintaining safety protocols from the ride's creators. This reminds me of a few poignant examples: (1) the story of Frankenstein, who was rejected by his creator, (2) the story of Facebook and its rapid growth, and (3) the 80`s film Little House of Horrors where a blood-drinking plant demands more and more from his creator. Each of these illustrates the drama and tension in creating a monster.

As Shannon alerted a series of other people about the actions of the NOT-good-man, I believe we should discuss prospective dangers within our community. One veteran cyclist pointed out that while we alert one another about cars and obstacles on the road, we do nothing to protect each other from dangerous, reckless, or irresponsible riders. Now is the time to take a hard look at the balancing act between community safety and individual freedom. I do not pretend to know all (or any) of the answers. I do know, however, transparency is key. Online, I noticed that many fellow riders were looking for answers and details to learn from my tragedy. In the echoing, vague silence of M+M, I wrote a detailed description of the circumstances surrounding my fall. 

Since prevention is better than cure, I've already signed up to talk to a therapist. The salty part of my circumstances is that I find myself in a community where I belong for the first time in a really long time. I'm not trying to fit in; I know that I belong. These tender new relationships are asking to blossom. I had hoped to spend the summer season frolicking with my new friends. Yet, I will remain mainly horizontal and indoors for the next few months. As we know, time never comes back. My bike will remain in the shop this season, and my kayaks will remain dry in the closet.

By the time I am ready to ride, however, I have faith that this community and her faithful riders will have developed a deeper awareness of keeping one another safe. A few cycle hooligans have already made their stance clear online. Some comments indicate that rough riders will quit group rides. For them, a classic reminder would be helpful. U.S. Supreme Court Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. describes freedom as “your right to swing your arms ends just where the other man's nose begins.” In our case, your right to be Mad Max ends just before your bike (or body) collides with mine.