Ever since I was diagnosed with MCL, it seems that every occurrance in my life takes on some significant meaning. I've always been somewhat superstitious to the point I never liked Fridays that fall on the 13th, I never carried around $13 or 13 cents in my pocket, wouldn't walk under a ladder, and I always turned around if I saw a black cat cross my path.
I can remember one day, before my diagnosis, a black cat crossed my path on a day that I was going scuba diving with a friend at Catalina, and for what ever reason, I didn't turn around.
We ended up going to the back side of Catalina, which isn't always accessible because of the winds and waves, but that day was a good day. At the end of the second dive, as we were surfacing, my weight belt (I stopped using a weight belt after that) got tangled in some kelp, and I stopped ascending when I was about 30 feet below the surface.
I didn't panic 'too much', but I couldn't seem to get easily untangled. Eventually I managed to unbuckle my weight belt, and get free of the kelp. Of course as I unbuckled my belt, my body wanted to float away. Fortunately, I was able to hang on to the belt, and to some kelp at the same time, preventing an uncontrolled ascent. That may not sound like much, but the belt weighed 32 pounds, and trying to hang on to the belt with one hand, the kelp with the other hand, while at the same time controlling my natural body floatation was not that simple.
Fortunately I was none the worse for wear, but I've often wondered if the black cat was the reason I got tangled in the kelp, or the reason I was able to get safely freed. Oh well, I guess I'll never know for sure.
Then this morning, as I was preparing to ride my bike in to work from Leo Carillo beach in Malibu, I discovered I had a flat tire. I keep a bike in the car I drive to work all the time, and it seems in the heat this past weekend, the air in the tube expanded causing a blow out.
There are two things that make this so profound. The first being, it was relatively cool, with a fairly heavy marine layer and a slight mist in the air. It wasn't really optimum riding conditions, so it was an easy decision not to ride in to work.
The second thing that was so profound was just on Sunday, I commented to Jim (one of the old gang), who always lets the air out of his tires when he puts his bike in the trunk, because of the exact problem I experience this morning, that I never had that problem.
That'll teach me!
Anywaze to sum up here, over the past several years I have become somewhat less superstitious. Becky has even convinced me that 13 is actually a lucky number in Norse mythology. But my phobia with black cats still lingers on somewhat, and stems from the fact that Edie and I have only had 2 black cats since we've been married, out of a total of 10 cats, and only the two black cats died of unnatural causes.
Maybe it's just bad luck to be a black cat, and coming in contact with one is good luck for that individual, or not.
This morning I didn't come across a black cat, and the day started out with a flat tire, and I didn't ride into work as originally planned.
Bad luck? Maybe, but just a few minutes ago, John, my riding buddy at work, wanted to know if I wanted to ride the Computrainer. We have two Computrainers at work, and we haven't done one of those workouts in over a month, and I always enjoy the competitive nature of that workout.
So maybe that was good luck. Or maybe not. I just don't know anymore. I'll let you draw your own conclusions.
Well John came through, and we rode the Computrainers at lunch. I led the first half of the ride (12.5 miles total), getting off to a fast start, but John managed to catch up. He's a lot better on the down hills than me. For the next 6 miles, we jockeyed for position until John passed me on the final hill, to nip me by a tire width (.2 seconds).
I lost, but it was exciting till the last minute, and it was a great workout, making up for not being able to ride into work today. John's also about 8 years younger than me.
I can remember one day, before my diagnosis, a black cat crossed my path on a day that I was going scuba diving with a friend at Catalina, and for what ever reason, I didn't turn around.
We ended up going to the back side of Catalina, which isn't always accessible because of the winds and waves, but that day was a good day. At the end of the second dive, as we were surfacing, my weight belt (I stopped using a weight belt after that) got tangled in some kelp, and I stopped ascending when I was about 30 feet below the surface.
I didn't panic 'too much', but I couldn't seem to get easily untangled. Eventually I managed to unbuckle my weight belt, and get free of the kelp. Of course as I unbuckled my belt, my body wanted to float away. Fortunately, I was able to hang on to the belt, and to some kelp at the same time, preventing an uncontrolled ascent. That may not sound like much, but the belt weighed 32 pounds, and trying to hang on to the belt with one hand, the kelp with the other hand, while at the same time controlling my natural body floatation was not that simple.
Fortunately I was none the worse for wear, but I've often wondered if the black cat was the reason I got tangled in the kelp, or the reason I was able to get safely freed. Oh well, I guess I'll never know for sure.
Then this morning, as I was preparing to ride my bike in to work from Leo Carillo beach in Malibu, I discovered I had a flat tire. I keep a bike in the car I drive to work all the time, and it seems in the heat this past weekend, the air in the tube expanded causing a blow out.
There are two things that make this so profound. The first being, it was relatively cool, with a fairly heavy marine layer and a slight mist in the air. It wasn't really optimum riding conditions, so it was an easy decision not to ride in to work.
The second thing that was so profound was just on Sunday, I commented to Jim (one of the old gang), who always lets the air out of his tires when he puts his bike in the trunk, because of the exact problem I experience this morning, that I never had that problem.
That'll teach me!
Anywaze to sum up here, over the past several years I have become somewhat less superstitious. Becky has even convinced me that 13 is actually a lucky number in Norse mythology. But my phobia with black cats still lingers on somewhat, and stems from the fact that Edie and I have only had 2 black cats since we've been married, out of a total of 10 cats, and only the two black cats died of unnatural causes.
Maybe it's just bad luck to be a black cat, and coming in contact with one is good luck for that individual, or not.
This morning I didn't come across a black cat, and the day started out with a flat tire, and I didn't ride into work as originally planned.
Bad luck? Maybe, but just a few minutes ago, John, my riding buddy at work, wanted to know if I wanted to ride the Computrainer. We have two Computrainers at work, and we haven't done one of those workouts in over a month, and I always enjoy the competitive nature of that workout.
So maybe that was good luck. Or maybe not. I just don't know anymore. I'll let you draw your own conclusions.
Update 2:00 PM PDST
Well John came through, and we rode the Computrainers at lunch. I led the first half of the ride (12.5 miles total), getting off to a fast start, but John managed to catch up. He's a lot better on the down hills than me. For the next 6 miles, we jockeyed for position until John passed me on the final hill, to nip me by a tire width (.2 seconds).
I lost, but it was exciting till the last minute, and it was a great workout, making up for not being able to ride into work today. John's also about 8 years younger than me.
Comments
Thirteen is an unholy number stemming from Jesus and the 12 desciples dining on that fateful Friday.
Bur remember events hold no meaning other than that which your mind imposes upon them.