The pedals of my bike rotated clockwise as I pedaled down the street my bum foot protruding from the bicycle’s pedal. It was a lovely Fall day and the wind was blowing up hot little dust tornadoes that would sweep down the asphalt.

I’ve always been an avid biker, not that I compete or anything, but after the wreck, it seemed like one of my only comfortable exercise options. Biking is easier on my feet and puts less strain on, as my mother and I have nicknamed it, The Little General. It indeed does get me around, though, it struggles.