Month: June 2017

You don’t know what you’ve got till its gone 

Posted on by fantomwriter

Take a look around. Look at what you have at home, the car you drive, the friends you have, and the freedom that surrounds you. And now, for a few moments, close your eyes and imagine that it’s all taken away, or even just some of. How would you feel? Disappointed, heartbroken, or lost?

This is something that happened to me over the past few months. I haven’t lost anything from my home, nor has my car been towed away, never to be seen again. But my bike is no longer rideable.
I still have my friends and family, and they are a huge part of my life, in so many ways. But what has been taken away from me, is my freedom.

The freedom to get on my road bike and ride to either a preselected destination, or to hit the road and follow a path less traveled. I miss the wind in my face, the speed beneath my wheels, and I miss the comradery with the cyclists who I shared the roads with.

I also miss the simple thing in life, being able to pick up a cup of coffee with my right hand and not feeling a sharp pain in my shoulder. But I still get my coffee, so there is a positive.

Having to ask family to drive me to any place I need to go, or when they are not around, I need to catch a taxi. And I have already had my rant about my love for taxi drivers.

We take so many things for granted, and we only realise how much they really mean to us once they are gone. Hang on tight to what’s close to your heart, because it can be gone forever in the blink of an eye, and there is no way to get it back.

Don’t it always seem to go
That you don’t know what you’ve got til its gone

Joni Mitchell – Big Yellow Taxi

Fast and Furious – Taxi Style

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On a recent trip to see a surgeon for my shoulder, I ordered a taxi to get me to his office as I was still unable to drive. On other visits to his office, the 30 minute cab trip had been rather uneventful. But this was not the case this time.

The driver who picked me up must have obtained his driver’s license from the Fast and Furious school of driving. He drove like a maniac, weaving in and out of traffic. One hand in the wheel and the other casually draped out of his window.


I mentioned we had ample time to get to my appointment, but it made no difference at all. He smiled and continued to drive like Michael Schumacher, only with less control.

Things got worse once we flew onto the freeway. He looked at the traffic in front of us and decided it would be quicker if we drove in the emergency lane. And he then put the pedal to the metal and cruised past 100 kms in the blink of an eye.

It didn’t take long at all once we were off the freeway and back onto the main road, and the doctor’s office was just around the corner.

After paying the fare, I stepped out of the cab as quickly as possible and prayed I never had to step foot in his cab ever again.

Honestly, I don’t need anyone’s help running into cars and injuring myself, and I have proven that on a number of occasions now 

Insight to my mind 

Posted on by fantomwriter


Sitting and waiting in the doctor’s office gave me time to think of the past few months and what they meant to me and how I’ve changed due to my cycling accident.


Physically I haven’t changed all that much. I’m a little less flexible right now, but physio and rehab will get me back to a point where I was before I was hit by a car. 

Mentally is a different story altogether I think. I have my good days, as well as some bad days. Small things set me off and I know I tend to get upset and angrier at things that would have never bothered me earlier in the year.


It was when I was lighting the fire, something I can do with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back. But this time was different.


The paper lit easily enough, as did the cardboard. And then that was it. The kindling refused to light and I lost the plot. Not just a few choice words, but a full dummy spit.


I sometimes need to admit to myself what happened has changed me. But I hope that most of the changes are for the best.

All I can do is continue with my rehab and hope that all the pieces fall into place before I really lose the plot.

Time will tell…

When the going gets tough…

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It’s all too easy to give up when the going gets tough. But as the saying goes, the tough get going.

This is always easier said than done, but it doesn’t mean its not possible. With some dedication and lots motivation, there are very few situations that can’t be overcome.

As was the point as I walked through the Alfred hospital trauma centre during my last visit. I noticed a young man walking on crutches, the bottom half of his right leg missing. A car or bike accident perhaps? I don’t know as I didn’t stop him to ask.

By the way he moved, it made me feel he had accepted his injury, and it was not going to stop him from getting on with his life.

This is also the case with many athletes who have overcome major injuries and have continued competing. Perhaps not in the same sport they were in originally, but they have moved on and continued with their lives as best as they can.


So what disappoints me is when I hear other people complain and whinge about how they are hurting from an accident, or from other injuries. These are the people who want to be wrapped in cotton wool and have everything done for them. They want the world to feel sorry for them and want nothing but sympathy.


These are the people who need to dig deep and find the motivation to move forward. It won’t be easy, and there will be hard times. But it will be better than sitting on the couch and moping about their situation.

We are all dealt a hand of cards, it’s up to us to decide how we play them.

Motivation 

Posted on by fantomwriter

Every day has been a struggle for the past 3 ½ months. Just getting out of bed Involved help from others and more effort and energy than I had. But I got up and out of bed every single day, no matter how much I wanted to lay there and feel sorry for myself. And there were a few of those days.

But I have to admit it became a little easier with every passing day, but still, there were days when I had to push myself physically and mentally just to start the day.

Even once I was out of bed, I still had to muster up enough motivation to get through the days. Sometimes just a short walk seemed out of my reach, but then I would think of the end goal, and I would get off my backside and do what I needed to do to achieve my goal.

My goal may be a long time coming, but that won’t stop me from getting there. Even though I have to dig deep at times to push past the part of me that won’t budge.

Motivation is something that drives each and every single one of us. It makes us want to better ourselves in so many ways, to forge ahead and continue with what drives us and what we want to do, or become.

Some of us have an abundance of motivation, day in and day out. And they have very few days when they don’t strive to do their very best. But what happens to those people when they succumb to the lack of drive, even for just a single day?

They ride it out, and i know that from personal experience. It may not be easy, but the other option is giving up, and that, is not an option.

It doesn’t mean we won’t fail a few times, but the desire and motivation we have been born with will get us through.

You fall down and you get back up

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With everything we do, there will be times when we fail, or fall over. This is something that none of us are immune to, failure.


No matter what it is we do in our lives, and no matter how good we think we are, failure is inevitable.

There is nothing wrong when we fail, it builds character and makes us stronger, but what can be considered as failure, is the strength, or will to get up and keep trying.

There will always be a fear of failing again a second time around, but where there is failure, success is always close by.

And even when when we finally get back up to try again, we may once again fall over. But that’s never a reason to stop trying.


Get up and give it your best shot, and not just one time.

God’s Worst Enemy Or Nothing? Your Choice

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If you could be either God’s worst enemy or nothing, which would you choose?


This statement can be taken in many ways by so many people. But what the real question is, would you rather be known for notoriety, or just be another faceless and unknown person in the crowd?

To be know for your notoriety can be a simple as the person who takes the last slice of cake from the plate or the guy who grabs the last beer from the fridge and not replacing it with a fresh six pack.

The question also pertains to the person who walks into a crowded mall wearing a suicide vest and detonating it, killing himself and so many other innocent bystanders. The suicide bomber will never know if his deed made him notorious, as he died the instant the bomb exploded.

On the other hand there is the serial killer who taunts and plays with the police, finally being caught and thrown into prison and let to rot.
This is the type of person who can, and will gloat when his face is plastered all over the papers and TV for the heinous crimes he committed.

Then there is the other option of being a faceless person in the huge crowd. Never being noticed by anyone for anything. Is this the better option?


For some people this is the perfect way for them to go through their lives, not making waves and laying low. Doing their own thing and letting life pass them by.

As long as either option doesn’t cause harm, injury or pain to others, it is up to each person to decide in how they choose to live life.

If it means taking the last beer from the fridge and not replacing it, or blending into the world crowd like a chameleon. It’s a personal choice.


What’s your choice?

No Promises

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There are some promises that are easy to keep, such as, I promise to mow the lawns this weekend, or I promise to fix blocked gutters before it rains again.

Then there are other promises that are more difficult to keep, no matter how hard you try.

One of my promises to my wife was that I would ride safe and be careful every time I went out on the road bike. Rain, blowing winds and sunny days, I would tell her the same thing as she lay in bed and I ventured off for my morning rides.


This was one promise I broke sometime in mid March 2017. My intentions were good and my years on the bike made no difference at all on this bright and sunny Saturday morning along the Melbourne peninsula. My lights were flashing and I was wearing my multicoloured cycling outfit. But still, a broken promise.

Having been on the road for close to an hour, I knew my halfway point for my outing. There was a slight headwind as I headed towards Point Nepean, and I was pushing myself harder than normal. It must have been the fantastic conditions, and I was out on my own and nothing but 80s music streaming through my headphones and a clear mind.

In a split second, my entire life was about to take a tumble for the worse. But it could have been far more serious. So I consider myself extremely lucky. And I was given a lifeline. 

A car coming in the opposite direction performed an illegal turn in front of me. Obviously not having seen me. And I’m not what one would consider a small unit.

With less than a split second to do something. I did the obvious. I hit his front side guard at over 30 kilometres per hour.

The first and only thing that went through my mind was, it’s over. Goodbye!

I flipped over his hood, landing on my arse and then ploughed into his windscreen, shattering it into thousands of pieces with my shoulder. And my journey continued I somersaulted over his car, as I watched my glasses and iPhone fly well ahead of me.

Landing on the ground more than 12 feet away from his car, I later discovered I broke my back. My L4 to be exact. And in thst split second, my life had changed. Forever!


Pain filled every fibre of my body, but for some unknown reason, I was still able to move my arms and legs. A positive sign I thought as I screamed in pain as I was surrounded by some very helpful and concerned bystanders.

The ambulance trip to the Frankston hospital was one without all that much pain, but I would have to say the morphine in my system had a lot to do with that fact.

The next few hours with my wife beside me at the Frankston hospital and then at the Alfred hospital trauma centre were good, bad, anxious, concerning, and the scariest hours of my life.

I was eventually told I had a broken back, but signs were positive because I was able to move my arms and legs. No internal or neauralogical damage, so another positive sign.

After leaving the hospital five days later, and in a very uncomfortable back brace I was to wear for the following 12 weeks. In some desperate hope my back would heal on its own and no surgery would be required.

With all the damage I had suffered, I was extremely lucky not to have injured any of my spinal nerves and no other nerves impacted. I only have God to thank for that. And not having died on the side of the road was something I still look back at and wonder why?

The following 12 weeks were filled with some of the lowest points in my life. Not just the pain, but the not knowing how and if I would fully recover. And at the lowest point, if I really wanted to continue. I knew deep down I had to abandon all fear if I was to make it through.

With the help and support of family and friends, I struggled through and continued to make progress. First getting out of bed without assistance, and eventually able to walk to my letterbox.

I have to admit ut did get a little easier the more I moved. I ended up going on 5 kilometre walks as the weeks dragged by. My only outings were visits to surgeons and physiotherapists.

The long road of rehabilitation lays ahead of me, 6-12 months I’ve been told before I’m back to the condition I was in before the accident.

In the end, what got me through was love and friendship. And lots of pain medication.

My Scott carbon fibre bike was written off, but I still have my Avanti, which is patiently waiting for me to decide on my path forward.


As for the path after rehabilitation, do I go back to the one sport I loved with a passion, or do I take up stamp collecting, as suggested by my brother.


Whatever I decide, I have honestly found that love and friendship conquers all, physical and mental pain.

No Promises – Icehouse

A Lucky Break

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As i dropped off my Avanti road bike off to my local bike shop for its six monthly major service, I knew it was going to need a set of new tyres as well as a full service. Not cheap, but very necessary.

And I also knew I would only be off the road for a few days, so i dropped it off early in the week to ensure it would be ready for my weekend rides through the Dandenong hills.

So when I stopped by the bike shop after work on the Friday to pick up my bike, I found Marcus waiting for me to hand it over.

We chatted for a while about the weekend plans and I mentioned the hills I would be descending. And I asked for a new set of brake pads, even though they weren’t worn all the way down. Better safe than sorry I thought when I knew the downhills and corners of the Dandenongs.

He hoisted the bike back onto the rack and slipped my used pads off and was about to replace them with the new set when I heard him say. ‘Damn!’

I walked over to the bike and he pointed out a serious crack in my bike frame. It was well hidden and was only visible when working on the back brakes.

It was then I understood his serious concerns. The next bump I went over with the bike in that condition would have possibly been my last. The frame would have snapped and I would have gone head over heels and caused myself some major injuries.

The bike frame had a 10 year warranty, so it was only a matter of requesting a new frame and waiting for my bike to be re assembled.

So after what seemed an eternity (three weeks) my bike was back together and with a new and updated carbon fiber frame.

The very next weekend I headed up, and back down the Dandenongs without a care in the world.


I do think that was a very lucky break. So sometimes we get lucky, and other times it just doesn’t go out way.

Ride safe.

It’s OK to fail sometimes

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Perfection is one thing we all seek, even if we don’t admit it to others or to ourselves. We are born to achieve the best we can in the very short time we have on the third planet from the sun.

Then there are times that no matter how hard we try, we fail. And there is no shame in failing, we can’t be perfect. Even when we try for perfection, it’s just out of our grasp.

But then, even when we are striving for perfection, are we doing it for ourselves, or are we trying to please others in our lives?

When we are young we are out to please our parents. In sports, at school and in the way we live our lives. Always trying to make others happy, even though we tell ourselves we are doing for personal goals.

Later in life we are out to please a partner, keeping them happy, making them smile and giving them everything they could possibly want, or need.

This is where we fail. No matter how hard we try we will at some point lose our way, falter, stumble and fall.

This shouldn’t make a big difference in a strong relationship, but at times it does. And this is where we need to once again strive for what we consider perfection.