I’m training for a Memorial Day sprint triathlon. Assuming all goes well, this would be my fourth tri, so I feel like I should be an old hand at this. ‘Should’ is the operative word here.

I’m mostly running this time around, since that’s the arena where I struggle the most. I’m fitting in the biking where I can, which basically means suggesting to the Modern Love Machine that we should ride our bikes downtown for dinner/beer/gelato. This ride is done mostly on quiet side streets with a slice of riding in traffic. That slice occasionally comes with asshole drivers who do everything in their power to make you feel unsafe. When I feel unsafe, I tend to pay more attention to the asshole drivers than I do to how my bike is interacting with the pavement.

And then this happens …

Second time in three weeks, no less. This happened Friday night. Photo taken Tuesday. My knee is actually more purple today. I’m not currently out of commission, but the road burn did keep me out of the pool on Saturday morning. My ego still stings a smidge.