Tuesday 30 September 2014

après crash report

It has been sixteen days since I crashed.

On the way to watch a race in Montréal, I zigged when I should have zagged and a friend zagged when he should have zigged and I hit the ground.

Hard.

On asphalt.

Mid fall, the bar end shifter on my Sutra connected with the meaty tissue directly below my kneecap. I was very lucky. North of that, and the shifter would have hit the kneecap itself, and potentially done serious damage. South of that, and the shifter would have connected directly with the front and side of my shin bone.

So the result of the crash was a chunk torn out of my leg, an infection that could have gone bad but didn't, some road rash, and something I was not expecting.

I am now spooked. 

I was not expecting that.

I have crashed before, both on road and off. Many many times in fact. But never have I been completely spooked. I remember one very bad road crash a long time ago which took a while to recover from physically, and longer to recover from mentally, but I don't remember feeling spooked like this. I remember wanting a break from riding, but not feeling spooked.

I desperately want to resume riding, and did last night for the first time since crashing, but while I did not show how nervous I was, I felt like a spider dancing on a hotplate when the bicycle was in motion. I was very aware of the shifter. Very aware of the tightness in my knee. Very tense in turns on gravel paths. Very aware of every bump and shifting bit of dirt under the wheels. I did not want to fall.

Normally, I don't think about this stuff, and normally, the bicycle just does its thing while I ride and I don't fall. Falling does not even enter my mind. The bicycle and I act as one.

Last night, the bicycle and I felt like complete strangers, and while I know it will pass, the transition from strangers back to good friends is something of a painful process.

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