Ashtonator
Well-known member
Great to hear all the progress man and Happy New Year!
Happy New Year Omar! How's it going?
Good to hear your progress Oomis, thanks for the update.
I think riding again would be an important part of recovery. Kinda like you say, you don't want this episode to define the rest of your life more than it has to. Take back control. Not easy, but you're obviously smart and strong so you can do it. Did you have a group of riding buddies who could support you? Do you know Goldie? She's been on the receiving end of a few SMIDSY events and kept riding, maybe she has some advice to share?
.....It's just a matter of how quickly I can get strong. Swinging a leg over a tall ADV bike, which is the most comfortable kind of bike for me, is a tall order. I have to get my legs strong enough, and I don't know if that's going to be something I can do this season. So I'm potentially facing a Spyder or a sidecar. Plusses and minuses to both....
Why push it? Start over and get on a smaller standard and work up to it again.
Great to hear you say you want to ride again.Happy (belated?) New Year!
I'm back at outpatient physio, which is kicking my ***. I go back to the surgeons at Sunnybrook on Tuesday for an assessment. Ideally they'll tell me that the bone graft has gone well and I will have no further need for surgery. It's weighing heavily on me, to be honest. I mean, it's not like I have a choice - if I need another surgery, I need it, but going back into the hospital and rehab... man, I just don't want to get back on that treadmill. I'm feeling strong; hobbling around short distances with no cane or crutches, and managing stairs better than ever, so I am trusting that this is a good sign.
On another note, I've decided that I will ride again. As you can imagine, this was a big decision. A year ago, I would have told you that I couldn't have imagined my life without riding. All this has put that into perspective and I have had a lot of time to consider what things would be like if I hung up my gloves, and I got to a place where I was really ok with the idea of not riding again. I don't think there's a sane person alive who could have gone through all this and just jumped back on a bike without processing things.
For me, it came down to a couple of things. If (ever) I was going to quit riding, I wanted it to be on my terms, not because I was too risk-averse to ever get back on. I also thought long and hard about what Linda would have thought about things, and I know in my heart she would have supported the decision to ride again. She knew how much riding added to my life, how much happier riding made me and how much it enriched my life with friends and experiences. She'd be ok with it.
It's just a matter of how quickly I can get strong. Swinging a leg over a tall ADV bike, which is the most comfortable kind of bike for me, is a tall order. I have to get my legs strong enough, and I don't know if that's going to be something I can do this season. So I'm potentially facing a Spyder or a sidecar. Plusses and minuses to both...
Anyway, I'm just working hard over here. Physically, mentally and emotionally. I'm just working hard.
O.
Not sure if you grasp this man's proportions. He's tall. Like 6'5" minimum. Anything smaller than most adventure bikes simply don't fit. I can understand his dilemma quite clearly (I'm not near that tall, but know his height quite well - he's the "Beige Mountain" for a reason).
If he needs to spend a season or 2 on a Spyder, I say, without a doubt, "GO FOR IT!"
The man inspires me every single day - plain and simple.
Happy (belated?) New Year!
I'm back at outpatient physio, which is kicking my ***. I go back to the surgeons at Sunnybrook on Tuesday for an assessment. Ideally they'll tell me that the bone graft has gone well and I will have no further need for surgery. It's weighing heavily on me, to be honest. I mean, it's not like I have a choice - if I need another surgery, I need it, but going back into the hospital and rehab... man, I just don't want to get back on that treadmill. I'm feeling strong; hobbling around short distances with no cane or crutches, and managing stairs better than ever, so I am trusting that this is a good sign.
On another note, I've decided that I will ride again. As you can imagine, this was a big decision. A year ago, I would have told you that I couldn't have imagined my life without riding. All this has put that into perspective and I have had a lot of time to consider what things would be like if I hung up my gloves, and I got to a place where I was really ok with the idea of not riding again. I don't think there's a sane person alive who could have gone through all this and just jumped back on a bike without processing things.
For me, it came down to a couple of things. If (ever) I was going to quit riding, I wanted it to be on my terms, not because I was too risk-averse to ever get back on. I also thought long and hard about what Linda would have thought about things, and I know in my heart she would have supported the decision to ride again. She knew how much riding added to my life, how much happier riding made me and how much it enriched my life with friends and experiences. She'd be ok with it.
It's just a matter of how quickly I can get strong. Swinging a leg over a tall ADV bike, which is the most comfortable kind of bike for me, is a tall order. I have to get my legs strong enough, and I don't know if that's going to be something I can do this season. So I'm potentially facing a Spyder or a sidecar. Plusses and minuses to both...
Anyway, I'm just working hard over here. Physically, mentally and emotionally. I'm just working hard.
O.
I paid a visit to BMW Toronto yesterday with the intention of just trying to swing a leg over a GS1200 to see if I could do it and how difficult it was going to be. I was greeted like a returning war hero by the Motorrad staff there; they know me well there.
With some difficulty, I managed to swing a leg over a (standard height) GS, which told me that in time as I continue to get stronger and more flexible, getting on and off a taller bike like this won't be an insurmountable (pun intended) problem. When I settled into the saddle and picked the bike up off the side stand, I was just overcome with emotion.
If you had asked me last year if I could have ever imagined myself not riding, I would have told you with certainty that I could not imagine that world. That riding was so important to me that I wasn't sure who I would be without it. With all that has happened, I've had a lot of time to think. Early on, when I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to keep my foot, and while I was initially processing all that's been lost, I had to seriously consider what a life without riding might be like. I got settled into a place where I understood who I could be like without riding.
As things progressed, and it became clear that I was going to be able to keep my foot, and that I would be able to get strong enough to recover most of my mobility eventually, I started thinking about riding again. In the end, I came to the decision that I am not going to let the driver that has already taken so much from me take this away. Maybe I'll never ride the big distances I used to, maybe I will. Maybe I'll ride 'till I'm 80, maybe I won't, but if I decide to hang up my boots it will be my decision.
Not his.
I paid a visit to BMW Toronto yesterday with the intention of just trying to swing a leg over a GS1200 to see if I could do it and how difficult it was going to be. I was greeted like a returning war hero by the Motorrad staff there; they know me well there.
With some difficulty, I managed to swing a leg over a (standard height) GS, which told me that in time as I continue to get stronger and more flexible, getting on and off a taller bike like this won't be an insurmountable (pun intended) problem. When I settled into the saddle and picked the bike up off the side stand, I was just overcome with emotion.
If you had asked me last year if I could have ever imagined myself not riding, I would have told you with certainty that I could not imagine that world. That riding was so important to me that I wasn't sure who I would be without it. With all that has happened, I've had a lot of time to think. Early on, when I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to keep my foot, and while I was initially processing all that's been lost, I had to seriously consider what a life without riding might be like. I got settled into a place where I understood who I could be like without riding.
As things progressed, and it became clear that I was going to be able to keep my foot, and that I would be able to get strong enough to recover most of my mobility eventually, I started thinking about riding again. In the end, I came to the decision that I am not going to let the driver that has already taken so much from me take this away. Maybe I'll never ride the big distances I used to, maybe I will. Maybe I'll ride 'till I'm 80, maybe I won't, but if I decide to hang up my boots it will be my decision.
Not his.
I paid a visit to BMW Toronto yesterday with the intention of just trying to swing a leg over a GS1200 to see if I could do it and how difficult it was going to be. I was greeted like a returning war hero by the Motorrad staff there; they know me well there.
With some difficulty, I managed to swing a leg over a (standard height) GS, which told me that in time as I continue to get stronger and more flexible, getting on and off a taller bike like this won't be an insurmountable (pun intended) problem. When I settled into the saddle and picked the bike up off the side stand, I was just overcome with emotion.
If you had asked me last year if I could have ever imagined myself not riding, I would have told you with certainty that I could not imagine that world. That riding was so important to me that I wasn't sure who I would be without it. With all that has happened, I've had a lot of time to think. Early on, when I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to keep my foot, and while I was initially processing all that's been lost, I had to seriously consider what a life without riding might be like. I got settled into a place where I understood who I could be like without riding.
As things progressed, and it became clear that I was going to be able to keep my foot, and that I would be able to get strong enough to recover most of my mobility eventually, I started thinking about riding again. In the end, I came to the decision that I am not going to let the driver that has already taken so much from me take this away. Maybe I'll never ride the big distances I used to, maybe I will. Maybe I'll ride 'till I'm 80, maybe I won't, but if I decide to hang up my boots it will be my decision.
Not his.