Somerville ....And I'm Out...

Anyone who thinks bike racing is a glamorous sport, please check out the pic on our Team CycleLife blog that says it all... for future reference, anytime you find yourself captioned along with a "puke bucket", things haven't exactly worked out in your favor.

After a pretty good run at RFK, I decided to abandon TV shopping for Somerville. I was finally finding my legs and wanted to keep them moving toward Philly and Nationals. LJ's race report pretty well covers it. I was in good/great position most of the race, was moving comfortably around in the pack and was gearing up for the finish.

I saw something happening ahead of me, slightly to the left. I was behind LJ and hot-rod Lisa Jellett (Verducci), assuming they knew where to be. The domino-effect started, so we all slowed down. I was far right and thought we made it through ... but the girls behind didn't slow down. I remember being hit from behind and thinking, as I'm flying off my bike, oh sh*t, that curb is going to hurt. I hit the curb with my backside, and I have an amazing bruise/road rash to show for it ... you"ll have to take my word for it. I don't know how many girls ran over me. Nonnie (Human Zoom) was the first friendly voice I heard - the EMTs were great but its scary as crap having 4-6 guys looming over you, asking questions you can't answer b/c you're still in shock. Thank you, Nonnie - I can't tell you how much that meant.

Knew my wrist was bad -they wouldnt let me see it. An hour and a half laying on a stretcher in the hallway with no meds, no food, no fluids ... pain started setting in and it was a pain I have never known. Maybe childbirth is worse, but I don't know. LJ harassed the nurses, at one point snapping back "thanks for nothing!" as they refused to help. I like to think that was me channeling through LJ.

Finally get a room and start fluids. Its almost 6pm by now... race started around 230pm. Still no drugs but the PA starts to manipulate my wrist. She said it was broken AND dislocated - sweet. Hurt like hell when she touched it but drugs followed quickly so my sobbing quited. Morphine also ran out quickly - we were up to 18 units by the time the x-rays were taken. Then await the ortho, who arrived an hour later. Since Morphine was not working, they gave me something else that worked but also caused nausea. Hence the puke bucket.

Worst moment? When the ortho had the huge man-nurse hold my bicep while he pulled on my hand to re-locate the dislocation. It is not a joke that poor Mel heard my yell in the waiting room.

So, my season is over. Nationals, Philly, CSC ... all that work out the window. Not happy. I know some others have it worse and I'm just whining, but dammit, in the words of Bart Simpson, this whole year "both sucks and blows".

TGIF - 5/22/09

The beginning of Memorial-Day Weekend. Actually, i think it started yesterday based on the traffic on the way home and the resounding echo of emptiness at work today. I missed the memo, but no worries, I'll bail out of here shortly to enjoy the sunshine.

I'm currently in the market for a new TV. I've mentioned before that my current TV is circa 1980. I have to use some contraption to be able to hook it into my receiver and cable box. And I can't hook anything else to it (computer/ipod etc). So, I've been down this road a few times before but something (life) always gets in the way right before I'm ready to make the move.

The amount of information out there on TVs is mind-boggling. I dont watch that much TV except when doing indoor workouts, so I am a complete idiot when it comes to picking out a new one. Contrast ratio (dynamic or other?), pixels, refresh rate, HDMI inputs ... a girl could get lost in all this if she wasn't careful. The other issue is that the reviews I find online are mostly one-sided. Figure if people are happy, they're happy. If they're not, they find any way they can to disparage the company/manufacturer. Plus, I dont trust the general public (reference my post about people sucking in general). Speaking of which, HvT had a hilarious post on a subject related to people sucking ...

Anyway, this weekend might be the weekend it finally happens. Will depend on if I can get some help to get it home (I'm tough but I'm injured, dammit) or if I have to deal with delivery. Retail therapy is best served warm, not by waiting for delivery. And lets all face it, I'm doing retail therapy.

Other thoughts for today: Got an update from Jen R, who was injured badly at BikeCrash - I mean CrashJam - I mean BikeJam. She seems to be in good spirits and had surgery yesterday. Here's hoping for a fast recovery. She's a rockstar on and off the bike and I'm sure she'll be out handing me my arse before I know it.

Its unfortunate when we don't race on Saturday but do race on Sunday. That means I can't kill myself on a training ride on Saturday, nor can I do something else fun (hiking etc) because I know I have to be ready to roll on Sunday. The saving grace is that I'm off on Monday ... hopefully the weather holds out and I can find a good ride to do for the holiday.

Enjoy the long weekend and no matter your religious/political affiliation, please remember what the holiday is for - to thank and remember those who gave (and continue to give) of themselves for our safety and freedom.

TGIF

Blood, Sweat and Tears (aka BikeJam/Wilmington)

I'm definitely not exaggerating the title - all three elements were very prominent during the weekend. Some more than others.

First up- Wilmington. A big girl race. With over 80 riders. Last year I managed to not only finish, but chase back on to the lead group (with lots o' help from HPC and now-teammate Sonja Evers) for a spot in the money. Despite a horrible winter training season, I was hoping to be in shape enough to make this a goal event. So much for goal events. Started out like a rocket. I was never in a good spot, never comfortable. Gaps opened almost immediately and we were going fast enough that the umph needed to close those gaps was just not there. At least for me. And 50+ other women who didn't make it to the end. All I know is that when I pulled myself and limped off the course, I saw that I was not in that bad of a spot ... not in the money by any means, but still with my "normal" competition. It's okay, the group I was in got pulled "officially" about a lap later so I just pre-empted the officials.

Coach Slavedriver saw my powerfile for the whole 7 miles I lasted of the 25mile race. He laughed on Sunday asking if I had seen "sprint intervals" on my schedule that day. Apparently my normalized power was obnoxious (for me). Those 7 miles or so were probably the hardest I've done in a while. Rockstar teammate LJ got a top 10 ... awesome. I managed to hold back the tears and there was no blood - those came on Sunday.

ClusterF*ck at BikeJam. Which is pretty much how that race goes. Most everyone I know says they hate that race, it's a crap shoot and people get hurt every year. Former teammate and friend, HvT got the raw end of a wreck a few years back. A pro rider last year broke her leg. This year the cluster resulted in an ambulance ride for friend and awesome-racer Jen R. Jen, get better soon - good vibes being sent your way.

Start at the beginning - I had a sh*t start since a few of us decided to take a lap around the course and everyone else apparently decided to line up. Thankfully, I felt pretty good and started picking my way through the pack. Within a couple of laps, I was sitting pretty around 20th or so ... It was one of those days when things flowed well ... I was *finally* finding my groove. I was well-within my comfort level and I remember thinking - good, I need this ... just pay attention and be smart.

Aside from having to hop the grass on that 120degree turn at the bottom, I didnt have to do too many evasive moves. I noted that the right side going up the hill tended to have a big slowdown ... no apparent reason but I stayed left. About 8 laps or so into the race, I was stuck kind of in the middle going into the hill. Not where I wanted to be but stuck. At the last moment I saw a cluster going down a few girls ahead and to the right. I had a half-second to grab the brakes and think: "This is going to be ungood". My bike was taken out from under me and I did the tuck-and-roll, knowing there were 40+ riders behind me.

The cartoon balloon of my thoughts would have said "son of a .... my effing bike ! please don't chain-ring me, please don't chain-ring me. how the eff are we wrecking going UPHILL??".

After the crunching of bikes and bodies subsided, I sat up and located my bike. Stood up - woozy - okay, good, have the bike to lean on. A couple friends and my coach were immediately at the sideline trying to help. I told them I wanted back in ... they must've thought I was crazy. Only a small spot of blood on my knee, another few scrapes on my elbow. Bike was relatively okay ... off I go. Get a good re-start after the ambulance cleared the course. What I didn't realize until about 2 laps into the re-start was that since I didn't have that much blood, it meant I didn't slide. Nothing dissipated the energy when I fell. That means I actually hit the deck pretty hard. Which meant that breathing hard immediately revealed that something was way wrong with my chest/ribs. I pulled myself out of the race, unable to get enough oxygen to keep going.

Side note: when pulling out of a race like this, with a few technical turns ... is it best to keep a straight line and drop back, or is it preferable to drop to the right ? I had several different ladies give "suggestions" as I was trying not to kill myself or others on the course.

Anyway. Long story to get to me limping back to my car, dejected and trying not to make eye contact with anyone for fear of them seeing tears. There's no crying in cycling !!! I dont know what upset me more - that I was really hurt, that I had yet another disappointing race or that I was sobbing in my car alone. Sigh.

X-rays revealed no fractures, but some badly bruised ribs and torn ligaments. Vitamin "I" is my friend. They also gave me percocet (sp) but I'm saving that for a rainy-er day.

I did lay low Sunday nite (watching the Lost finale with Z) and Monday, but was back doing repeats on Ilchester on Wednesday. Zim thinks I'm bad-ass because I am so "dedicated". What she doesn't realize is that Coach Slavedriver drives me to it ... I pay someone to make me miserable on the bike. How does that make sense ... Maybe I should have gotten an x-ray of my head while I was at it ?