Finally! I'm Official!

There’s a saying that goes, “there are only two kinds of cyclists – those who have crashed and those who will crash”. All these years I’ve been the latter. I can proudly say I have now become the prior, and according to my coach, an “official” cyclist.

It was a beautiful spring-like day in Boulder. Clear sunny skies and temps in the 60s. Everyone who had a bike was out on the road. I had a four-hour ride followed by an easy 30-minute run planned, but I changed plans a little. Instead I started with a steady one-hour run with my boyfriend and his dog before heading out on my ride.

I was closing in on a 20-hour training week and was feeling just a touch on the tired side heading out on the bike. Less than 45 minutes into my ride I was on my aerobars cruising at about 30mph coming off a smooth gradual descent.

How it happened I don’t really remember, but everything that happened after things had been set in motion I remember vividly. Even to this day I can see it my mind’s eye like replaying a movie reel.

I zoned out. I can’t even remember if I was looking somewhere else – I tend to sightsee often when I ride. What I do remember is looking down at the road and thinking I was awfully close to the edge... then I clipped the edge of the pavement and lost control. For a split-second I thought I could save it, and in the next split-second I resigned myself to the inevitable.

My bike shimmied and slid out from under me. I remember my elbow striking the ground hard – or maybe it hit the pavement – then my head, then sliding on my side. I remember thinking how the sliding was going to leave some serious road rash. I remember my foot somehow magically clipping out of my pedals and my bike sliding along ahead of me. I remember tumbling and wondering what this must all look like to the drivers in the cars coming up the road. Then I came to a stop face down.

My very first thought was, “get up!” I have this weird reaction to falling – no matter what I’ve fallen from or how hard I’ve fallen, my first instinct is the get up right away. I sat up right away. My elbow hurt something fierce. My hip was throbbing. There was blood all over both my knees and some scratches on my leg just below my short line. A few scratches on my lower legs. I felt so dizzy and dazed. I felt like I wanted to pass out, but I didn’t. I just kept feeling so dazed. I was starting to feel a tad nauseous when someone said to lie down and put my legs up. I instantly felt better.

The passersby who stopped to see if I was okay called 911. I knew nothing was broken, but damn, I was hurting and so dazed. One of the good Samaritans said my chin was really chewed up and my nose was bleeding. Couldn’t even feel anything on my face, just my frikkin elbow and hip. And my poor bike – it was 10 feet up the road, wheels up in the ditch. I don’t know why, but I still find the wheels up thing hilarious. Only damage to my bike was a broken bottle cage and broken aerobars.

So, the sheriff came, the fire truck came, and the ambulance came. They kept asking questions, and although I hadn’t passed out or been knocked out, I couldn’t really make a decision. Should I take the ambulance to the hospital? Should I get the sheriff to drive me home and then maybe go to the hospital? Should I just lay there at the side of the road waiting for my boyfriend to come pick me? The EMT lady scared me out of that idea and suggested that I really should have my elbow looked at, and at the very least have them clean me up properly. Besides, I’d get much faster service if they brought me in.

Well, I’d never been in an ambulance before, so I thought, “what the heck, I’ll go for a ride... but no sirens!”

In the ER I was told I was the third cyclist in that day and that it was early in the season to see so many of us in. It was a gorgeous day though. Beside me was a roadie who had gone down in a pack. The poor man had a broken collarbone, three broken ribs, and a broken hip. Yikes!

They numbed my injuries, x-rayed my elbow and then got to cleaning up the road rash. My elbow took the worst of it. Just as they were about to discharge me they decided my chin needed a little more cleaning and out came the toothbrush. That was almost worse than the crash itself, but I gladly took it knowing I wasn’t walking out of there broken – just a little beat up.

I was shaking for hours afterwards from the adrenaline of hitting the deck. Pain was starting to settle in my shoulder and my hip. It was so bad that I could hardly walk and I could barely use my arm. S’all good though – I could walk out of there, I got to experience some new adventures, and now I’m an official cyclist. :-)

One month to my next Ironman – guess I’ll start my taper now. ;-)

5 March 2005

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