Biking to Physical Therapy

It strikes me as somewhat ironic that I'm biking to my physical therapy appointments. Somehow the words physical therapy make it sound like I should be barely mobile. But, short rides don't affect my shoulder and my ankle does better with biking than walking. I'm lucky that both the physical therapy and the vestibular rehab offices are only about a mile from home. It's an easy ride to and from either place, and I suspect that getting my blood pumping doesn't hurt when it comes to then stretching out and exercising muscles and ligaments.

There is one drawback, however, which became glaringly obvious this morning. Last week, as I meandered home on the back streets from vestibular rehab, the thought crossed my mind that a flat tire sure would be inconvenient. All the offices have costly cancellation policies and I have not factored in much wiggle room in my schedule.

Today, I biked up to the Post Office as soon as it opened to ship Rob's book off and then stopped to visit with a friend nearby. From there, I headed straight to physical therapy. The appointment ran long, giving me just enough time to bike to a dental appointment. However, when I unlocked my bike, I discovered the front tire was totally flat. I have not had to change a flat tire for about three years, so the prospect of having to do it under time pressure was enough to get me all flustered. I do not retain mechanical skills well; the only way I remember this sort of thing is to do it frequently or write out step-by-step instructions.

So, I pulled out my step-by-step instructions and was doing okay until I tried to pump air into the new tube. Nothin'. After a few more tries, I called my sweetie in a panic. He confirmed I had everything set the way it should be but couldn't really help more than that. I hung up and tried one last time. Yay, air went in! I got enough air in the tube to place it on the rim when a gentleman asked me if I needed some help. He kindly took over but he, too, had trouble with the pump. It absolutely would not pump up the tire.

I noticed a voicemail from my sweetie and called to let him know I was walking home (in bike shoes). I'd called the dentist's office and told them I would be half an hour late. Luckily, he was able to borrow a vehicle and give me a ride home while my bike stayed locked up at the grocery store. I did make it to my dentist's office, only slightly late, but the message has been driven home.

1. I need to practice changing my bike tires occasionally.
2. I need to leave at least 15 minutes earlier for all appointments (and remember to take a book to read while waiting at the office).
3. I need to put the phone numbers of all the offices in my cell phone in case I need to call at the last minute (and need to make sure my phone is charges).

I'd tell you more about life at Chile's Casita lately but I'm overdue to do another set of physical therapy exercises.