This summer, I got the opportunity to take a once-in-a-lifetime type of trip: I attached a trailer to a racing bike and crossed France from the Mediterranean to the English Channel. As you might imagine, I was more than a little tired when I made it back to Scotland, and I was going to give myself a week to rest.
I had one more thing to do before I could give myself total rest, and that was to visit my brother in the Highlands. Unfortunately, there was some light rain the day I was heading home, and when I crossed the tracks at a level crossing, my bicycle slid sideways and brought me down hard on my right shoulder, breaking my collarbone.
Tomorrow, I'll have been in this sling for seven weeks, and I've not really put that time to good use. No language study time, anyway, and rather than watch any of my foreign language DVD collection, I just watched oodles of rubbish off satellite TV.
OK, so everything's easier with a right hand, but nothing is impossible without one. The pain for the first couple of weeks was very distracting, but after that it was self-pity merging into just straight up bad habits and poor excuses.
Tomorrow, I'm going for a check-up at the hospital, and with luck I'll be out of the sling. Whether I am or not, this has to be a breakpoint: an end to laziness, a new push to make the most of my time. I've loaded up my phone with several CDs of Michel Thomas German (a course I never finished) to listen to in the waiting room.
No more excuses.