I didn't think it would be a problem, I was wrong. Cycling in the flats is not at problem, up hill is not a problem, but coming out of the hills is. Although I didn't crash in a curve, I can still see the curve I was approaching when it happened. It haunts me, the fact that a simple leaning to the left caused the wheel to lose its grip and the bike to slide out from under me at 45km/h.
For two days I've struggled with my demons. Trying to overcome that fear, that wall within that won't let me take a left curve at speed or any curve for that matter. My arms and hands are still hurting, my shoulder too, and I have to wear a plaster over my nose so flies don't stick to the wet wound I'm trying to dry out.
This morning I walked down to the beach. Sitting on the rocks looking east out over the Adriatic sea.
I thought of all the heroes young and old, past and present who have sailed her waters. They never gave up, they set their course and stuck to it.
Music played in my ears, relatively modern favourites ... bringing back wonderful memories ... the breeze picked up and blew chill around my shoulders ... the lone fisherman cast out again, and I casted my eyes back to the hotel.
Gotta get on the bike again today. Have to try.
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