Tuesday, April 10, 2012

On Crashing One's Bike

If you're friends with me on Facebook or follow me on Twitter (@hockeyspiral23), you saw that on Easter Sunday, I crashed on my bike. I was just about six miles into my ride, on the Cherry Creek Trail portion of Cherry Creek State Park. I was tired and it was a little windy and maybe I should have just sucked it up that day and ridden on the trainer, but I didn't.

I rode outside. And I crashed.

Obviously, I don't 100% remember what happened, but I'm pretty sure I went to swerve around a runner, in aero, probably going 15-20 mph, rode off the paved path just enough to spin out and crash. I remember starting to slide and then being on my back, with people around. I don't think I remember getting off my bike at all ...

I remember getting my phone out so I could have someone call my husband (Brandon). I remember being super glad my phone wasn't broken again so I didn't have to replace it for the third time this year (new 3Gs because of a hardware issue, then a new 4s because of a cracked screen). I remember asking someone to help me get my cleat covers on my shoes.

I remember the paramedics. I vaguely remember being put on the stretcher, but I remember the stretcher going into the ambulance. I also remember the paramedics bringing Bob along with me to the hospital. I called Brandon again and left another message (he was flying). I also called my manager, knowing there was no way I'd be making it into work the next day. I knew my name, and my social security number, but I could not remember my address (remember, I moved about four months ago). I called my parents, too, telling them to meet me at the hospital.

I got to the hospital. I had CT scans, x-rays. I learned I split open my eyebrow and punctured my temple. I fractured my right orbital bone and thankfully, won't need plastic surgery. I got my first ever stitches. My hands, particularly my right, are hamburger and I have some sweet, sweet road rash.

I'm glad I didn't end up signing up for that 5K in Boston on Saturday, because there's no way I'll be able to run it, given the concussion. I'm just glad I'm allowed to travel at this point. And type, although typing this doesn't feel all that great. But I'm stubborn, and I want to feel as normal as I can, even though I have to have Brandon sponge bath me and I'm paying my hairstylist $10 so she can wash my hair for me tomorrow, since I am unable.

My helmet looks all right, but it's blood-spattered and I will undoubtedly be buying a new one before I ride again. My Zeals (sunglasses) are destroyed; one stem gone, the lenses screwed up. Bob's aerobars are scratched to hell, he's got blood splatters himself, and I'm pretty sure that the back brake is bent. (He came out of this better than I did.) My Columbine Primal Wear jersey now has blood stains and my beautiful brand new tri shoes may need replaced, as the right one is scraped to hell. My RoadID may also need replaced, as its metal face is also super scraped up.

But that stuff is all physical. It can be replaced if need be (and most of it needs be). What matters is that I'm okay. That Brandon's company let him come home early so he can help take care of me. That my manager's main concern is me getting better and that she got all my shifts covered this week.

Training will come back. Probably running first, then cycling (trainer first, though) and then swimming. Gotta let all these wounds heal before I want to think about exposing them to ouchy, stinging chlorine. BolderBOULDER goal may not happen, but I'll let that slide for me coming back healthy. Hopefully I can still race this summer; if I can't, though, I'll be thankful I'm okay.

This hasn't derailed IMAZ 2013 plans; it's made me, if anything, more determined to do it. I can survive this; I will come back from this. And I will be stronger.

(and what's an injury post without gory photos? stop reading now if you dislike blood and ickiness.)

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