meaning get oofed from video game roadblocks

They hadn’t been in Oakland when I was young. When the Oakland Raiders left, again, I was more annoyed than anything. I’m supposed to be the one helping out with the extra tasks around the house, and instead I’ve been slowly limping around, needing my own extra care all week. One of them had both bashed his helmet and broken his collarbone, and was being transported to the hospital. My only consolation: seemingly everyone else visiting the medic after the ride had gone down in one of the same two spots. With a very pregnant wife at home, the last thing I wanted to do was incapacitate myself in any way. I only participated in this particular event because it wasn’t a race, so I figured I’d be less likely to have any major issues. I avoided any real damage to my torso and didn’t hit my head or break any bones. The falls themselves didn’t really hurt that badly.

That was the beginning of an ominous week. Once I’d finished an increasingly uncomfortable, nearly two hour drive home and limped up my front steps, I amended my assessment.

“I’m OK, but I am pretty beat up,” I texted my wife after getting treated at the event. They were the result of two spills off my bike on Sunday, during a gravel ride, the second more brutal than the first, skidding out on a particularly rocky, steep, loose descent, during which I landed on the same spots on my wrist and shin that I did during the lesser mishap. These things are connected, but not in a way that should scare you about my physical or mental health, both of which I’d currently rate somewhere just shy of “passable.” The wounds from which I was bleeding were self-inflicted, but not intentionally so.

I spent Wednesday night wrecked, disconsolate, and bleeding in my bathtub. Who hasn’t taken that first step” - Car Seat Headrest | Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales

Meaning get oofed from video game roadblocks