Dumb Runner Tries Cycling, Fails (Not a Joke)
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photo by sarah remy
EDIT, TO CLARIFY: After my crash on Sunday I was treated at the ER and released. I’m home, recovering, and trying to schedule an appointment with an orthopedist. Thank you for all the kind comments!—m
First of all, readers, I know what you’re thinking, and don’t worry: My bike is fine.
Me, not so much.
Long story short: I was cycling Sunday when I crashed, hard, going through a downhill turn and got banged up. (My bike, again, is fine, as far as I can tell. Cannot stress that enough.)
Here’s the longer version:
For the past several months, I’ve been cycling a lot more than running. (Yes, cycling. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.) Before I became a runner in my early 20s, I was a dedicated road cyclist for more than a decade, and I’ve fallen back in love with cycling. It’s been delightful. Well, until now.
Sunday’s ride was a group ride, a 50-miler with lots of climbing. The first series of descents was twisty-turny, and the road was damp, thanks to some recent rainfall. The worst turns were strewn with leaves and pine needles, making things even dicier. I mentioned this to another rider, and she agreed the conditions were treacherous. We rode with caution.
I made it through several of these turns before coming to a sharp right that appeared to be clear by comparison—dry and free of debris. I watched the rider in front of me make the turn, then followed her line. I figure I was going about 30 mph.
A millisecond later, giant invisible hands yanked my wheels to the left. Another giant invisible hand slammed me from behind, sending my right shoulder into the pavement and then the left side of my face. Somewhere in there I flipped and scraped my hip and lower back.
I said some very bad words.
I could go on describing the crash—anyone who’s crashed a bike knows what I mean, with the awful sounds, the surprising violence of it, the way time somehow drags and goes into hyperspeed—but the point is, I crashed. My face was a bloody mess and a grotesque-looking lump protruded from my right shoulder.
Someone called my wife. She showed up, helped me into our car, and took me to a hospital near our home, where they cleaned me up, removed a small rock embedded in my face, and put a stitch below my eye. X-rays showed I had a separated shoulder.
The whole time, I was weeping blood like a James Bond villain. Cool!
What caused the crash? The easy answer would be “physics.” I was rolling too fast, at too great an angle, you know. Kinetic energy, etc.
However, I blame something else entirely. I believe the universe was teaching me a lesson for publishing this several weeks ago:
Well, universe, nice job. Consider my hubris checked.
In any case, I am grateful that it wasn’t worse. It easily could have been.
Matter of fact, I’m grateful for a lot today.
I am grateful for my fellow Club Roule members for tending to me with great care while we waited for my wife to come collect me.
I am grateful for my wife, the love of my life.
I am grateful for the many friends and neighbors who clamored to offer us all manner of help when they heard about the crash.
I am grateful to the physicians, nurses, techs, and other staff at the Providence Portland Medical Center ER, who treated me with incredible kindness and compassion during what I know is a time of tremendous stress for them. (I also told them I was sorry for adding to their burden with my own dumb “emergency,” an apology that they brushed aside with grace and humility.)
I am grateful for this lesson that dramatic things can, and do, happen in the blink of an eye, that life can be vicious and capricious. It’s a good reminder.
The theme here, in case you missed it, is gratitude. I am grateful for all that I have—my family, my friends, my work, my overall health—today, perhaps, more than ever.
I’ll be taking a short break from my Dumb Runner duties while I heal. Typing with my arm in a sling is challenging, and even getting out of bed is painful. But I will be back soon.
In the meantime, thank you for understanding. And be careful out there!
With Love,
Mark
