In keeping with my goal to get back on my workout schedule, now that I'm back to full-health, I rode my bike to the gym to go lifting. It had rained last night, but was warm enough this last week that I rode confidently without the fear of hitting random "slimy" ice patches. I love this because I get a 35 - 40 min. extra "dose" of cardio in the morning and then after work for the ride home. And that means I can leave the car at home and not deal with the nerve-grating commute.
I was about 7 minutes from the gym when I got to the wooden foot bridge over by BU. You have to curve immediately when you get on it and then curve again on the other side to get back on the bike path.
As soon as I got on the bridge, which was still wet from last night's rain, and took the turn, my bike slid out from under me.
I went right down. Unlike last time on the ice, I didn't fall away from the bike, nor did I slide for very long. However, I did slide enough that I was about 2 inches short of losing my bike into the river.
Once I realized I was fine and my bike wasn't at risk to be doomed to spend the rest of its days at the bottom of the Charles, I picked myself back up; with both my pride and my right quad bruised. Luckily, like last time, I was clad with lined wind-pants and 3 layers of clothing on top, so the bruise is not terribly big and I didn't cut myself either.
Still though... in the 8 years I've been riding that path, rain and all, I have NEVER fallen on that bridge. But no one was around to witness my wipe-out, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. (I HATE falling or doing anything that's generally clutsy in front of anyone, strangers or not)
And, once again, I didn't injure my knee and was able to lift just fine.
There's got to be someone or something watching out for me! And I am eternally grateful...