When the plane touched down in JFK after a not too bad flight thanks to two seats to myself, it had been rather pleasant! Apart from the irritating, whining toddler on the seat in front of me, who proved to be the best form of contraception ever. Femurs first flight was complete: no blood clots and no beeping at security, despite all the metalwork in my leg. I’d even printed off all my X-ray pictures in case I had to prove it to anyone. That I was indeed the bionic woman!
Evidently the days of free upgrades to business class are over though, because if you can't get bumped up to business on a half empty plane on your birthday, recovering from femur surgery with a leg that still won't fully bend- when can you?! Little did I know my upgrade wish would be granted when I got to the hotel...
I breezed through immigration and hopped straight into an Uber feeling like I’d cheated a blood clot and getting strip searched. That balmy, warm, summer evening air hitting my skin was a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time. Plus, the fact I was finally back on American soil! My soul home. If you know me, you'll know Europe doesn't do it for me! If I'm flying anywhere, it's going to be to the States. I also had another recovery mission to complete: cycling round Central Park. The whole perimeter of it. Not just the bit up to the lake and the ballpark like I did last time, stupidly thinking I'd done it all till I looked at a map. It really is colossal. I'd booked myself in at one of my favourite hotels, directly opposite the park and two doors down from the world-famous Plaza. So I literally had no excuse not to attempt my cycling mission. Imagine the explosion of gratitude and excitement I felt when I checked in and was told I’d been “upgraded”- to a room overlooking Central Park! Part of me thought I must’ve misheard them, until I opened the hotel room door and the view took my breath away! Not only that, there was a chocolate cake waiting for me, alongside 2 bottles of posh fizzy water! Am I in a movie right now? It certainly felt like it.
Naturally it was the best chocolate cake I had ever tasted in the entire world, as I promptly tucked into it while taking in the incredible view. I even managed a whole 20 minutes without crying with overwhelm, until I turned over the card that was placed on the cake table. “Happy birthday! Love Emmaline xx” My amazing friend and soul sister back home had only gone and organised this without me knowing! I was now crying happy tears into that chocolate frosting, feeling so loved! This would definitely power me round the park tomorrow!
The weather forecast was set to be a roasting 29° and sunny, and I would finally be able to even out that t-shirt tan from Brands Hatch. As well as consuming many cold brews (much stronger than my regular iced americano). I chose not to think about the risks: getting hit by another cyclist or worse; one of the many horse and carriages. Punctures and sunstroke didn't really cross my mind. I was more worried about hitting a pothole if the paved cycle route was anything like as bad as the tarmac round where I live. Thankfully, America deals with their potholes, unlike Trafford council. I told my travel insurance all about my osteoporosis diagnosis, so I’d be covered if I fell off the bike and broke something else. But I tried not to think about that. I still want to live life to the full and everything in daily life involves some level of risk, right? Even sipping a green tea when it's too hot. Or attempting to apply false eyelashes. Whose idea was it to put glue that close to your eye anyway?
With the CitiBike app downloaded and QR code scanned, I was suddenly wheeling my trusty push-iron towards the cycle path, meandering through buskers, joggers and fruit carts.
All those sessions on the bike at Total Fitness trying to get my leg to bend were for this. When I first started at the gym, I had to have the seat so high on the bike, there's no way my feet could touch the ground. Plus, I was hitching my hip up every time the left pedal got to the top. Both those things were recipe for me ending up headfirst in a bush, or veering off into the lake full of turtles and koi carp that you see in the movies. I was filled with confidence when I adjusted the seat and realised I could have it at almost the lowest setting. And still turn the pedals like a normal, evenly balanced person! Let's GO femur!
As many lycra clad athlete types flew past me, I followed in their tracks, just a lot slower and with a very wobbly push off. Three minutes in and I started crying again. I looked around and realised I was actually doing it. I was cycling round central park! With a leg that definitely couldn't have done anything like this a few months ago. It was the biggest pinch me moment ever. Am I dreaming? Am I really doing this? YES I BLOODY AM! Although I probably looked like a right weirdo with tears streaming down my face and ugly crying on a bike, but it's nothing a $10 pair of sunglasses couldn't hide. I'd got about 1/3 of the way round (or so I thought) when I was hit with some surprising hills… Deceivingly steep. Those ones that look mild but they keep gradually climbing until your quads are screaming. I had to pull over (twice) and walk for a bit. Damn it! I felt momentarily defeated.
“Do you have a problem with your bike?” a lady asked with a strong American twang.
“No, I've got a problem with my femur.”
The lady took one look at my scar, gasped, then told me I was doing great. She also asked why I hadn't opted to use the electric bikes, like around 80% of other CitiBike app users. She had a point... but in my mind, that would be cheating. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it properly. All by myself! Completely unassisted by an electric boost. I like to call it ‘stubborn determination’ and I'm convinced it's helped me heal and bounce back quicker than taking the easy option. I pedalled on and enjoyed some downhill freewheeling. I then started giggling to myself. Pure joy now spread across my face, with the wind in my hair and drying my tears. I could tell from the familiar skyscrapers I was about to come full circle and I approached the very docking station I originally unlocked the bike from. Not before finding a trustworthy looking couple to take a victory photo of me first. Nice looking people, who I was certain wouldn't run off with my phone. Another hack for my fellow solo travellers is when someone asks you to take a picture for them, ask them to take one of you in return. You also meet some interesting people this way and, in some cases, make a friend.
Once I'd successfully parked the bike and it stopped charging my credit card every 15 minutes extra I went over, I was in desperate need of water, ice cream and a massage! It took me two hours to complete my Central Park cycling mission, but I did it. It was worth every penny, every pain, every tear and every leg burn. And the fact my bum was now killing me! There may have to be a lot of Ubers tomorrow.... It would also work out pretty well that the day, after I'd be spending an hour and a half on an Amtrak train to Philadelphia (as you do!) where I'd be attempting my next femur mission: to jog up the Rocky steps. Cue the music!
Brilliant you does it again!! What a warrior. xxxxx