Degreaser

I had a flat tire in the exact middle a long bike commute last Friday. There was a mix of sleet and freezing rain pattering down on me. I found myself especially fidgety due to being forced to change the tire in a dangerous location.

Changing the tire was a messy affair. My bibs were covered in bike grease by the end of it. Due to my shakiness I severely cut my left thumb and it continued bleeding for more than 24 hours afterwards. When I returned home, the inside of my left glove was wet and syrupy due to all the bleeding through the remainder of the ride.

I washed the bibs several times but it wasn’t enough to remove 100% of the grease. I have to live with the rest.

My thumb will scar; it’s quite a hot mess.

Still, there was a confidence boost from having managed to change the tire in what most would consider miserable conditions. I managed to bike to my destination. After arrival someone remarked, “In this weather? How in the hell!?” Maybe I just like pain too much.

I also have an unhealthy perfectionist in me that I need to eradicate. This side of me finds living with stained bibs, or stained anything for that matter, difficult. At the same time, that’s life, and my own journey at the moment requires that I learn to live with imperfection. I have enough scars that you’d think I’d be over this by now. Our clothes stain. Our skin scars. Everything new degrades with time. Life moves on. Fighting degradation is a losing battle, so you might as well embrace it.

We are perfectly imperfect, as the saying goes. A grease stain is a reminder of where I was, a memory of a unique struggle. Maybe a little grease and a little scar tissue deserve to follow me after the act.