Linda, Chuck and I at Big Rock Forest Preserve.

It can be said that athletes are at greatest risk when they’re not doing much of anything. We’ve all heard stories of pro athletes chopping their thumb tendons while cutting carrots before a game. Or sneezing and causing a back spasm. That happened to former Cub Sammy Sosa, and he was out for a week.

Well, I bent over to pick up my shoes today and bingo! Back twinge so profound I can now hardly stand up or sit to type this blog.

So be it. Just another setback in the recovery from the bike accident. Still can’t run anyway, although I trotted 30 yards the other day to test out my legs. Discovered that the hamstring I bruised so terribly is also not quite right. So that will be fun to rehabilitate too.

Meanwhile I received a text from the emergency room doc from Cadence Health, who is a triathlete and cycling buddy. The text read: Heading out for 2 hrs. Want to come along?

I called him back. “Just kidding,” he told me. Probably testing my commitment to a sound and reasonable rehab. Wants to know I’m not out cycling already, and risking another crash. His surgeon friend did too good a job to go blast it apart on a bright autumn afternoon.

So it was ginger walking for me today, with the wife and dog. We all had fun and got home safely. Except for Chuck. He pooped a little greasy and wound up back in the tub for a cleanup after I gave him a big bath yesterday. He looked betrayed when we hauled him back there with the soap. But that’s life. Sometimes you get your ass kicked, like I did bending over to pick up my shoes. Other times you get your ass washed, like Chuck did for an inefficient dump.

We also encountered something that appeared to be making a shitty face at the lot of us. Funny how the universe can conspire to greet you with an ironic sneer, even on a bright, sunny, September day.

When live deals you shit, you still have to smile.