Thursday, March 1
This was an eventful day, to say the least. Tom went out with the Sydney cycling club at 6am, and I had just met up with him in the park – I’d only gone about 8 miles – when Tom peeled off to climb a hill and I continued on my way. I was cruising along at about 20mph, when three guys passed me; the last one lost control of his bike and slid out right in front of me. I didn’t even have time to brake and went right over the top of him. This was my first serious bike crash, and believe me, it’s not an experience I ever want to repeat. I landed on my chin, cheek, elbow and chest and slid for what seemed like forever on the pavement, finally coming to a stop in a pile of leaves and sand. By the time I got up there were about 20 people around to help, including a nurse who did a quick check up and neuro exam, and the park rangers had just arrived to assess the situation. The guy in front of me had evidently cranked down on his pedal to accelerate as he passed me, and lost his chain. It all happened so fast, that I can just remember being airborne above his bike thinking that this was not going to be good.

Luckily, I didn’t break anything (there has to be an advantage to carrying around some extra “padding”), but I was pretty bloody and scraped up. There was a gash on my chin, a black eye starting, a big bruise on my cheek and road rash everywhere else. My rear tire blew – I remember hearing the hiss of the air escaping, and thinking that I was glad Tom was around so I wouldn’t have to change the tire myself – and my left hood (handlebar part) was bent, but otherwise my bike seemed to be OK. That’s how it is when you have a nice road bike – your first thought is your bike - after all, skin grows back. One of the nice park rangers gave me a ride home (against the rules, but he seemed happy to break them) and Tom took the bikes back. We went to the local emergency room, where they cleaned my wounds as best as possible, stitched up my chin and sent us on our way. I have a whole new admiration for those professional bike racers who go down in a crash, jump up and continue to ride their bikes another 80 miles. Of course, they are 30 year old hard-bodies, not slightly soft, middle aged people, so I have an excuse to baby myself for awhile. Tom took my bike into our friend Jason, who manages the service department at Sydney’s premier cycle shop, and he kept it to check out and fix. I spent the remainder of the day trying to rest, and getting used to the fact that skin abrasions are really sore!!

I’ll tell you ladies, this is no way to exfoliate.