Thinking You're Above the Warning
Aug 1, 2004 AM/Santa Clara, CA
I started my season racing only the track, beginning in April. Our friends, the Ryans, were happy we were joining them. Their son, Jim, was also racing. He was the first one to issue me the warning.
"Watch out for the Velo Girls, they are overly aggressive without the handling skills to match." Or at least that's the gist of it. I was happy to see that the only Velo Girl out on the track was a 10-12 year old junior who was not making any sudden moves.
I proceeded to enjoy my racing season, making it out to the track at least every-other-week, at best, weekly. I'd done some Friday nights, a lot of Wednesday nights. I'd raced against some really high caliber women - as well as some high caliber men. They worked me. They put me to shame sometimes. One thing they NEVER did was make me feel any fear of being crashed. They were exceptional bike handlers, most of whom had other lives that they had to protect. Aggressive riding was, indeed, present, but it was all smart, smooth, and most importantly, safe. I give credit to the Lombardi women as well as the Palo Alto Bicycles women, who were ever present.
Occasionally I placed well, but most importantly I came home always feeling like, while I could have been smarter on occasion, I always rode to the best of my fitness, and often above it (OUCH!).
Then I had a stretch where I couldn't get out to the track, due to my work schedule or family issues (sick daughter? Turned out not, but she claimed it, unknowing that it was a track night. An hour later she was running around the house like a maniac saying she wasn't ever sick... but I went with what I had at the time.), for a three week period. Lucky for me, my team, LGBRC, was putting on a race the next weekend, the Timpani criterium (August 1st, a Sunday). I felt ready, physically and mentally (I was chomping at the bit to race again), to face one crit this season. After that I'd mapped out the end of the track season through August and into the first week in September... I'd even pegged one road time trial that could synch us up with my sister-in-law and niece and nephew for a visit.
I arrived at the race early, to help with set-up. The women's 3/4 race was the third to go off, so I helped with set-up, warmed up, and then found my teammates who would be in there with me. It was then that I received the warning again. "The Velo Girls are here en masse, I almost went home when I saw them. Watch out, they'll ride you into the curb if you even try to advance to the top five". I was warmed up and ready to go - I didn't see any backing out now. I figured I'd just try to ride the race with staying safe as my priority - my teammate agreed that that was her goal as well.
The race began and I realized that my fitness was SO there, I was comfortable with the paces being set by these women. I rode most of the race in virtual comfort, with the occasional acceleration reminding me that it was, indeed, a race. Then, about half an hour to forty minutes into the forty-five minute race I started to feel aggressive, and began to move up in the pack. Then a break went. I had a teammate on my wheel who I felt could do something in this race, so I went too - with the goal of taking my teammate and ultimately myself, up to the break. I was successful - my teammate came around me comfortably as I made contact with the break. Then as we hit the corner a flash of Velo Girl pink bumped me in the shoulder. I did not hold my line (my fault), and slid into the curbing (not actually hitting the curb, rather the area where the pavement changes from road to sidewalk). My wheel started to slide out - and I managed to hop back into the road, landing over a little farther than I otherwise would have been in the line around the corner. I actually thought I'd saved it, but the line I'd jumped into was, unfortunately, already occupied. I overlapped wheels and literally flipped over. I landed wrist-first on the pavement and rolled, still attached to my bike. Another rider rode over me at that time, while I laid as still as possible, hoping everyone else got around me safely. Only one other rider went down, the woman who went over me.
As I sat up and began the damage assessment I looked first at my elbow, where most of the pain seemed to origiinate... no real damage. But as my eyes travelled down my arm I began to realize the unnatural angle of my wrist. Then the groin/hip pain began to sink in, but I wanted out of the road - I knew they were coming around again shortly, and my perception of the passage of time was poor. With help I was relieved to be able to walk, but not without big pain in my groin/hip area. There were many people helping me out, for which I was very thankful... one who helped hold my arm in a stable position, one who called paramedics on her cell phone, a guy who rode to start/finish to let the team know, and to summon the one doctor available, who agreed, basically, that my arm was broken... brilliant diagnostic abilities. There were the people who kept the race running, but waved riders around where I sat on the side of the road, and of course, the paramedics and EMT's, ER docs and nurses - the ones who gave me Morphine... LOVED them.
My pelvis is cracked, and my wrist was shattered, though it's since been surgically reconstructed. The hand-specialist orthopedic surgeon said the only thing she's seen worse is the result of a motorcycle accident. The surgery that should have taken an hour-and-a-half took nearly three hours.
I'm healing, but due to the overly aggressive riding that didn't belong where it was, and perhaps my own foolishness in not holding steady into the corner, I cannot care for my 20 month old daughter. I could barely hug either of my sweet girls at first... what remains two weeks later is the inability to play with them, I cannot carry Piper, nor can I console her in a tantrum, or hold her hands while walking. I cannot dance with Phoebe, nor can I go along on bike rides around the neighbourhood. I have been amazed, though, to see the goodness coming out in others over this - the friends who have brought dinner, or taken the kids. The amazing sweet side of Phoebe, as she brings me ice packs and drinks, being as helpful as she can be. The strange understanding that Piper has as when, in the morning, I go and lift her out of her crib and ask her if I can put her on the floor and have her walk to my room so we can nurse and she says yes, and happily toddles off to my room, occasionally holding hands with Phoebe as she goes. Then, of course, there has been that incredible side of Phil that just jumped into the role of parenting, housekeeping, and nursing my health, without question.
It's an emotional roller-coaster, one I'd like to get off of, but I think I'l be better for it in the long-run... we probably all will be.
