"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans" (1)
When one habit becomes a bowling ball to all your other habits
Jary, Nik, Anu, and I came together in 2005 with the goal of riding the STP (Seattle To Portland) bike ride in one day. We came up with the team name “Numb Nutz” with our slogan being, “Not tonight dear. I just biked 200 miles in one day.” Over the course of our six months of training, we created nicknames for each other. The one rule was that you had no say in your own nickname; the other three picked it and you had to live with it. Jary was “Ringer” because he was the overqualified one, having a rich history of competing in ultra endurance events. Nik was “Rabbit” because every time he rotated to the front of the paceline, he took off like a rabbit. Anu was “Blood” because, more often than not, when a ride was done, he would be bleeding somewhere but have no idea what caused it.
The nickname that my team gave me was “Crash”, because I was really good at wrecking. I had the stupidest wrecks with these guys. Half a block into our very first ride together, I ran into the back of a parked car. Stopping at a strip mall for some snacks I failed a simple curb hop and did an endo over the front of my bike. I popped my tire by running into the back of Anu, puncturing my front tire on his rear cog.
The nickname was certainly appropriate. I made more than my fair share of careless mistakes on the bike. Thankfully, most of them ended with amusing anecdotes. So I didn’t think too much about my focus level on the bike. But that all changed in August of 2016, when my carelessness had me flying way too fast around a hairpin turn, slowly creeping towards the double yellow line, and hitting an object in the middle of the road that lifted my rear wheel and dropped me instantly into a slide. Sliding on the ground directly into oncoming traffic, I rolled myself up onto my hands and knees and steered my skid to the right of a car whose driver thankfully saw me and was slowing down and also turning to the right. I came to a stop next to the driver’s door and yelled up to her open window, “I’m okay. We didn’t hit. Thank you!!!“
Immediately following that accident, I started looking at my sloppiness on the bike differently, and I committed to getting better. In “Measure What Matters”2 fashion, I built an OSHA-like spreadsheet to track my “days since last accident.” Peter Drucker said it best: “What gets measured gets managed.” It has been a very effective tool, and over the next nine years since I started it, I recorded only six more accidents.
From 1,110 days to 0 days
Fewer than one accident per year felt pretty good. And what felt even better was getting my longest streak above 1,000 days. Last Thursday that count was 1,110 days. And then it was reset to 0. Scrolling through my bike computer’s turn-by-turn directions as I was navigating a traffic circle, I had only one hand on the handlebars which wasn’t enough for the pothole that came up on me. My front wheel caught and stopped immediately, throwing me over the handlebars. I landed on the back top of my head before rolling forward to complete the somersault.
A man standing on the side of the road saw me fall and said, “Are you alright?”
I answered, “What did I hit?”
He said, “I don’t know, but stay still and I’ll call for help.”
I said, “Yes I’ve had a neck injury before and I don’t wanna risk it, so I’ll just lay right here. Thanks for helping!”
While I waited for the ambulance to arrive I checked all my movement. I could feel all of my body and everything was moving. There was no “ring of needle pricks” around my neck which I recall from my first neck injury 30 years ago. I was feeling better about my situation but still didn’t want to risk it, so I just laid there and looked up at the beautiful blue sky.
When the EMTs arrived (Sam and Tiffany), they felt around my neck, shoulders, and upper back. They asked me several questions, were satisfied with my alertness and happy that I had no loss of consciousness. They helped me up to a sitting position and then further checked my back. Then they stood back and let me stand up and watched me do it. Then Sam said, “Everything checks out as far as we’re concerned. But it’s your choice. If you want, we can put you in the ambulance and take you to the hospital.”
I said, “I’m feeling alright. Just give me a minute to check my bike.” The bike was fully operational so I thanked them for the help, then I thanked the Good Samaritan (William) and was on my way. I finished the ride three miles later and felt stiff but really nothing beyond that. I got cleaned up and called Ann, my doc sister for an over-the-phone second opinion. She told me what to stay watchful for to make sure my brain was okay. Then she advised me to lay off the drinks at the happy hour that I was about to go to. I heeded her advice and had a great evening. I came back to the hotel and updated my crash spreadsheet.
Then I posted my activity on Strava, titled “Days Since Last Crash: ZERO”3.
From 2 days to 0 days
My trip to Virginia was for a meeting of the Virginia Tech CS Department Advisory Board. We had a great day and a half off site and after saying our goodbyes I had five hours of daylight to ride in. I had mapped out a course to see Mount Vernon, Fort Belvoir, and Occoquan before making my way back to the hotel in Alexandria. Weather was great, trails and roads were light traffic, and I was enjoying the new sites.
40 miles into my 55 mile ride I turned the corner onto US Rte 1, Richmond Highway. I stayed in the right side of the right lane, occupying the lane as there was no shoulder here. The road soon widened to three lanes with a bike lane. I began moving over to the right, crossing through the rightmost lane on my way to the bike lane. A police car with lights on was coming from the other direction on Rte 1, and it caught my attention. I tracked the police car as it went past, and then began to turn my head forward again. Just before I was looking forward I felt a jolt.
I opened my eyes to see two cops standing over me. They were leaning forward and asking me questions, but I was muttering unintelligibly. Another person outside my field of vision said, “He’s trying to move!” and one of the officers said, “Stay still. We have an ambulance coming.” I blacked out again and when I woke up I was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. When they saw me alert, the questions began:
“What’s your name?” - “Jeff Bogdan”
“What year is it?” - “Uh.”
“Where are you?” - “I remember being on Hwy 1.”
“Correct.” - “I had just passed an IHOP.”
“Also correct.” - “And I was looking for my next left, which was Telegraph Road.”
“You were a few stoplights away from it.” - “The road had just widened.”
“Yup, from two to three lanes.” - “And then I was on the ground looking up at cops.”
“That’s alright, just relax.”
I was really worried about this gap in my memory. Was my head hit from Thursday worse than I thought? Had I just passed out on the bike? Ten minutes later, in the ER, I was very relieved to remember. I said, “Ah, I’ve got it now. A cop was going the other way on the highway with his lights on and I was watching him. As I was turning my head forward, I felt a big bump.” Eric, my EMT, responded, “You were on the sidewalk when we found you.”
I spent seven hours in the ER, where they performed more scans on me than all my previous scans combined. I think it was 16 different X-Rays, a CT Scan of my head and neck, and then CTA Scans (where they shoot iodine into your bloodstream and track it) of my head and torso. The conclusion was that my head, spine, and torso were all fine, my face had only superficial scratches, but my left arm was broken in three places (shoulder, elbow, and finger), and my right hand was broken.
They talked about the need for surgery, but that it wasn’t urgent. So that gave ne the green light to head back to Washington state the next day as originally planned and do all my follow-up work from home. The ER doc gave me prescriptions for muscle relaxants and pain meds to make the flight manageable, and then I was released.
Perhaps the most comforting part of this story was that my nephews in town rallied to come to my aid. My nephew Nick drove out to the airport after midnight to get me safely back to the hotel at 2am. And then my nephew Jake took the Sunday shift, coming to pack my suitcase, disassemble and pack my bike, get my rental car returned, and pickup my prescriptions. We had a great lunch together in Alexandria and then Anton, a colleague from Virginia Tech, hung out with us at a coffee shop for an hour. Jake got me the airport and got the bags to the ticket counter. Hooray for extended family!!!
Lean on the data
Sitting on the plane, in between dozing episodes, I updated the crash spreadsheet. And then I submitted my Strava entry for this ride, titled “Perfect Record Crashing on Rides Out of Alexandria”4.
I felt bad having two wrecks back to back. I felt worse that ambulances were called both times (”never have I ever” before this trip). Both were careless mistakes. Was I really no better than the Numb Nutz’s “Crash” from 20 years ago? It’s true that these were bad, and it’s true they were way (way way) closer together than any two previous crashes.
But pop the stack and look at the overall trend. I’m still averaging less than one crash a year. That’s a point worth celebrating. And the seriousness of this last wreck is reminding me of the reason I created this spreadsheet. It’s time to make a habit of checking this spreadsheet page before every ride. Stay vigilant of this counter … and stay vigilant on the bike.
“The gracious acceptance of plan B”
At my sister Beth’s wedding, Father Jim described marriage as, “The gracious acceptance of plan B.” That line has been referenced countless times by my family, in the context of marriage but also for life in general. That line has been a reminder to me to be more flexible … and to be happy about my flexibility. And so now I have another opportunity to text this line.
My Saturday bike ride was supposed to be followed by a dinner with Anton and Blake, whom I haven’t seen for six months. And the next day I was supposed to have lunch with Arjun, whom I haven’t seen for more than a year. There will be more opportunities, and I am thankful for that.
There was also supposed to be marathon writing sessions on Sunday, beginning with my 60min morning writing habit, followed by several discrete hour blocks of writing on the long flight. But with both hands bandaged up, and with the muscle relaxants and pain meds working their magic, I could do little more than sleep.
My habits keep me productive5. That was true while I was working 50-60 hours a week at Microsoft while making sure I created enough space to actively engage with my family and friends. But it’s even more true in these calmer waters that I’m now in, working more like 20-25 hours a week. My habits keep me from squandering my time. So the real test of this “gracious acceptance” is for me to watch my habits and goals pause while I get myself repaired:
Stretching every morning (10min) - nothing happening now, but eventually I’ll be able to use this slot for recovery physical therapy
Working out every morning (20min) - same as #1
Writing every morning (60min) - I’m getting better at using dictation, but this is still a big challenge given my very sporadic sleep
Solstice Workshop Day6 (8hrs) - My son Drew and I have a tradition of spending a day together in my workshop making something for someone else. I can’t imagine my hands and arm will have the required degrees of freedom to make this happen. I think postponing to February can work.
6,000 miles of outdoor activity for 2025 - I am currently ahead of schedule, but I still need to average about 14 miles a day to make it to hit the 6K mark. Oh well, it was a good goal to drive my efforts, and I can try again next year.
Publishing two posts a week - this will just have to pause or slow. Sorry folks, but know that I’ll be back soon.
Goals are good to aim for. Setbacks are inevitable. Don’t beat yourself up. Just get back up and move forward.
Cheeeeese
I went and looked a Google maps street view to see what I hit. And that view, combined with the Garmin tracking of my route, confirmed that I did, in fact, go from lane to biking line to curb to sidewalk. It was one of those gutter-style curbs that curves, so that acted more like a ramp than a wall. I’m a big fan of ramps, but only when I actually see them coming!
Taking votes on the best title for this photo:
“No brakes; use face”
“I fought the road and the road won”
“Guess which side I landed on?”
An oldie but a goodie: “You should see the other guy.”
Write in your own
Footnotes
The title of this post is a line from John Lennon’s Beautiful Boy, track 8 on his 1980 LP Double Fantasy … and right before my #1 favorite song of all time, Watching the Wheels.
The “OKRs” section of Habit-Propelled.
Perfect Record Crashing on Rides Out of Alexandria | Ride | Strava
Winter solstice traditions around Seattle | The Seattle Times
A beautiful post of humility and positivity. Well done, Jeff.
😮