Cycling is bad for your health!

Well mine at least anyway, I’ve been trying to cycle the five and a half miles each way to work and back as often as I can muster the energy, mainly because I hate paying for the train, which is almost always invariably late, too busy and smells.
The down side is that I’m pretty lazy so it’s a lot of effort, and this year it seems lots of other people have decided the train is a no-no too, so the canal tow-path I use to get to the city centre is getting pretty crowded, but I persevere as it’s the only exercise I get and it is remarkably quiet along the canal again at the slightest sign of bad weather.
Feeling rather unwell today (it’s the beggining of cold season after all, and as we know I get so many colds throughout the winter on and off it’s almost one long cold of varying severity) I decided not to get changed into my cycling gear for the ride home (it’s usually really muddy and I try to make it at least a bit of a work out so changing at each end is a must) and that I’d go slowly and only ride part of the way, and use the train for the rest of the trip home (the canal follows the rail line, or vice versa, most of the distance between my work and home).
It seems I should have just got the train all the way or rode home as fast as normal, as I now feel even worse for the ‘rest’. There is plenty of room to pass oncoming traffic or overtake slower cyclists/joggers/pedestrians if you pick your spot and notify the other party of your intention, but tonight all of a sudden where a bush slightly narrows the tow-path there was another cyclist on the inside of me overtaking, his handlebar touched mine and then I was sliding along on my face and my bike was trying it’s hardest to reach the bottom of the canal.
The other guy rescued my bike (helped by the fact my pannier bags had acted as poor mans water wings and stopped it submerging completely, the edge of the rear wheel was still showing) and I lent him what little tools I had to (unsuccessfully) straighten his steering back out, and then I rode my dripping bike home.
And the worst part? Despite being massively sore and my face stinging like trying to eat raw onion and salt filled jellyfish with your eyes, I look absolutely fine, as if I’d just been out too long in a strong wind or gently slapped by a child, not one cool manly scar to show for the whole ordeal!