Broke my right collarbone last night after a damn ninja stealth raccoon ran right in front of my tire while spinning laps around the neighborhood, a little people-free Covid crit I like to do. Went down hard on the right at about 20mph, nothing I could do. Doc rides too, and said “well, now you’re a cyclist.” Banged up pretty good, but thankfully it was close to home, the helmet stopped my head from hitting pavement, and gloves prevented hamburger hands. Morphine wore off about 4am and I hate taking Norco and other such prescriptions so ibuprofen it is. Good teachable moment for the kids to understand why dad is so serious about helmets, at least. Fuckin’ trash pandas. And stupid 2020.
My cars are both manuals, recovery should be interesting.