I remember when I was in my 20’s, getting pretty banged up attempting something stupid on my bike.
It would go slightly awry and I’d hit the ground, or get tangled up in my frame, and by the time I got home to clean up, I’d be bruised and battered.
It never bothered me much, because a few days later I’d be bruise-free again and all memories of any pain were long gone.
I was reminded of this recently. Regan and I were having a very active week. We rode bikes, we played lacrosse, he rode his skateboard and his scooter, and we generally goofed off a lot.
Plus Chenoa and I are cleaning up post-renovation, so there was furniture to move, a few bigger chores, and plenty of climbing up and down my stepladder.
Being that I’m not in my 20’s anymore and bruises last longer than the memories of the incident, not to mention the pain is no longer temporary, it has me a bit tentative when Regan yells out, “Dad, try this.”
I’m good with the riding and lacrosse, it’s mostly contact-free and it comes naturally so my body is used to it. And, I’m still better than Regan, so my risk level is low.
Climbing trees and jumping into the garden, learning new skateboard tricks, jumping the scooter across the driveway … all potentially painful events for Dad.
I lost track of how many times Regan crashed last week.
He fell off his skateboard and landed face and chest first on the stairs, then yelled out, “I’m Ok,” and ran off to try again.
He tried a nose wheelie on his scooter and slid across the rough cement of the driveway. His knees and elbows were scraped raw, and right when I thought I saw some tears coming, he jumped up and yelled out, “I’m OK” and ran back to pick up his scooter.
He’s learning how to catch better for lacrosse, and when he missed, I watched the lacrosse ball smack him right in the face. Lacrosse balls are really hard and they move fast.
He looked at me and said, “Ahh, that’s the second time that happened, I’m OK” and then threw the ball at the wall as hard as he could again.
Luckily for me, I had zero incidents throughout the week. No bike crashes, no lacrosse injuries, and as much as I wanted to jump out of the tree, or learn how to Ollie, I avoided most of Regan’s crazy antics and stuck to spectating for the extreme “sports.”
We woke up Monday morning and as much as Regan was covered in scratches and bruises, they were fading fast, he was no worse for wear, and ready to rip for school.
I woke up with sore shoulders, a random bruise on my thigh, and a craving for Advil.
I can’t even imagine what’s going to happen when I start racing BMX with him later this summer. I better up my insurance.
I’m James Durand and I’m Goin’ Ridin’…