Now, I look like this:
Now, I look like this:
I'm seriously serious.
I wish that I could brag about these scars, saying that they were my battle wounds. Or, saying that I was all bloody because of a fight with a jerk, or a serial killer or something of that such. However, the reason was more pathetic than anything I could think of.
The story goes like this:
We went to The Forest of Dean in Gloucestershire during the weekend for cycling, and a picnic.
My attire? Big mistake!
I was a big beginner in cycling. I've just learnt cycling last summer. Or was it the summer before last summer? Well, the bottom point is, I don't really know how to cycle. Bicycle riding was not included in my childhood's package. I've only cycled a few times around my house, but have never cycled up, nor down any hills before.
Me, riding a bike....?
Last Saturday was my very first experience of cycling in the outer world. The real world. Most of you could have guessed by now, what've happened to me on that fateful day;
I fell! Not once, or twice, but thousand of times. Okay, that might be stretching the fact too much. However, it was true that I fell loads of times.
Halfway through the bike trail, it rained, and there was no shelter nearby. We had no choice, but to keep on cycling against the pouring rain, and harsh wind. Sometimes later, the rain subside, and I was riding downhill. There was a gate at the foot of the hill, and just in-front of the gate was a wooden wall. So, we just have to turn right, and continue with our cycling.
Here goes nothing....
I've mentioned earlier that I'm a beginner, didn't I? When I've reached the bottom of the hill, I panicked, and my flexes weren't fast enough to turn right, so, I hit the brake instead. The bike halted abruptly, and all the inertia just caused my body to lunge forward, and I ended up kissing the wall with a loud 'bang'.
I've stayed in this position for quite some time, while my mind was trying to register the pain to my brain.
A friend of mine, who was riding in front of me dropped his bike immediately after having heard the loud bang, and ran to my rescue. Meanwhile, another friend of mine who was riding behind me was busy asking me questions on whether I was crying or laughing since she can't tell from the way I reacted to the crash.
Okay. It hurts a lot, but I didn't cry. Ha ha! My only concern was the scars on my face. I was told that I look like Charlie Chaplin then.
The scar on my upper lip, looks a bit like his strip of moustache.
I've 'face-walled', and now I'm Charlie Chaplin-ized. :)
Oh, yeah, baby!