I got hit by a car Monday night, but it wasn’t until midweek that I started feeling really bad.Let me clarify that a bit.Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling — physically — like I’d been hit by a truck. Which, of course, I had. An SUV, at least.Monday night, a little after 9, I was headed back to work after dinner. I approached a T intersection about a half mile from my home. There was a car approaching directly in front of me, several blocks away, and as I reached the intersection to my left, there was an SUV stopped at the stop sign waiting to turn left — so it’d be headed in my direction.I was turning left — onto the street where the SUV was stopped — and had no stop sign.I slowed, signaled, then started to turn. Unfortunately, so did the driver of the SUV. So I went for a little ride on the hood before bouncing off the ground. In retrospect, it wasn’t all that spectacular, but at the time it seemed like a big deal. I hit something so hard, I tasted my teeth.People stopped. I called authorities. As we waited for the cops, the driver and I chatted a bit. Turns out I know him. He’s involved in the local sporting scene, and I ran into him quite a bit during my reporter days. I’ve quoted him in the paper quite a few times.And I remember him to be a good guy.Police and paramedics arrived, took our statements, checked me out, proclaimed me bruised but otherwise fit, and I declined a trip to the hospital.The driver offered me a ride home, but I chose to walk, carrying my bike because the rear wheel was taco’d.The damage to me was minor. I had a pretty good goose egg on my left shin — where I first came in contact with the SUV — and little bits of road rash on both ankles and my left shoulder. My left hand was swollen enough I’m glad I took off my wedding ring. And there was a general feeling of achiness, like I’d been through a tough workout the day before.I walked awfully gingerly for a couple of days, but ibuprofen took the edge off, thankfully.My bike also was relatively undamaged. I took it to the bike shop, and the frame was deemed fine, but the rear wheel was toast. My helmet, too, was cracked where, apparently, I hit my head on the windshield.The total bill will be a little under $200, which the driver already has paid.When I told my wife that, she said the driver was “getting off easy.”My response? I was the one getting off easy.I had been hit by an SUV with only a few bumps and scrapes to show for it. Lucky me.But in the days since my run-in with Joe Isuzu, I’ve started to feel bad that it happened at all.To be clear, the accident was all the driver’s fault, and he readily admitted it. He said he didn’t see me, though I always ride after dark with a bright headlight, blinky tail light and reflective bits on my helmet and spokes and shoes. My coat, though black, also had reflective accents.I know the accident was unintentional, but I also could have avoided it if I hadn’t neglected my No. 1 rule: Ride like you’re invisible.As I approached the intersection, I saw how the traffic pattern was setting up, and I remember hoping the SUV wouldn’t try to “beat” the oncoming car to the turn.When he started rolling, I remember hoping he’d see me directly in front of him and have time to stop.He didn’t and, afterward, said he heard me (apparently bouncing off the hood of his car, where I left a cool me-print in the dust) before he ever saw me.But if I’d ridden more defensively, I would have waited until I was sure the SUV wasn’t going to turn. I didn’t, and though I was in the right, I’m the one who ended up on the ground.Curiously, earlier Monday I had written a blog in which I expressed a bit of sympathy for a driver who unintentionally killed a cyclist. Monday evening, on my way to dinner, I almost got T-boned by a driver who blew through a four-way stop sign after I stopped and proceeded through. The near-miss was the closest I can recall in a long, long time, and I rode home thinking I’d paid my karmic dues.Then later that night, I got creamed.That night, as I limped back into the office after ultimately having driven to work, I was all but greeted at the door by a co-worker, who, I’m guessing, heard about my plight on the scanner that runs 24/7 at the News Center.”Is that,” he asked, “the most ironic thing that’s ever happened to you?”I assured him it certainly was in the top five.