It's Not NYE, But Let's Go Retro

... retrospective, that is. Because I like progress like a pregnant woman likes ice cream. My husband also likes ice cream. He is not pregnant...

A year ago, last Thursday, I was in a serious wreck... I became a serious wreck. I shambled into Thanksgiving dinner and probably made my poor Grandmother worry more about me than she already likely does.

I hit a dog, and was subsequently terrified of dogs for months.

I was already afraid. Something about being chased by forty pound dogs that look shockingly like the Monty Python fluffy bunny will give you the heebie jeebies if you don't have your emotions and mental state under wraps. Add to that hitting a dog while flying down the hill at 20 mph (a slow roll down a hill, really...), and you'll have a girl with a serious case of cynophobia.

I spent months riding around with dog spray in my pocket, until I realized a few things... it was a crutch, I needed to get my head on straight, and that it didn't always even work that great. Honestly, the scenario usually plays out like-a-so:

Riding along, approaching a house where I already know there's a dog. It's in the flats... I know I can outrun the dog, or deal with it properly, but there goes my heart rate on its little escalator to the stars, just the same. Grab dog spray from jersey pocket. See dog running at me. Freak out. Start spraying early. Ride... through... pepper spray. I can't tell you how many times I did that this summer... one day I went and climbed a mountain nearby with lips that felt like they must resemble Angelina Jolie's. The preemptive strikes hurt me more than the stupid dogs.

Ouch? Ouch.

I can only think of one time where the dog spray actually saved me from dismemberment. I deployed that shit right into a doberman's face as a climbed a hill. But that's an outlier... right?

So now that I'm riding "unarmed," so to say, am I on high alert all the time? No. I think I'm likely calmer and more collected. I try to keep my head on and react properly, instead of worrying about the dog that lies ahead, with its "sharp, pointy teeth." (Thanks again, to MP for that visual.) It's also one less item to jam into my jersey pockets, which are already on the small side. (I eat a lot on the bike... I gotta stash my food someplace...)

I always try to find the silver lining in the bad experiences... if there is one here, it's that the wreck eventually forced me to take control of my emotions and be calm in bad situations. It's a zen in the eye of the storm set of circumstances, where I have to calmly consider all possible actions and consequences in rapid time. I'm pretty sure there's a life lesson in there somewhere, if you dig really deeply, so maybe pull out your shovel.