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Fartlek – Wikipedia

Nice and easy, felt surprisingly good after century. Chilly and windy.

Yes – I really did hit a deer with my bike…and for that we go back.

My ride began as normal on the morning of August 26, 2008. A standard two hour loop from Japantown, up Sierra Rd, down Felter/Calaveras and back to Japantown. The warmer weather dictated shorts, a short sleeve jersey and my vest. The sleeves were quickly shed and placed in my back pocket. I headed up Sierra, a bit on the slow side since I’m not riding as much post-Death Ride, and hit the top about 8:30am. I wound around the flat part and started the downhill of Felter Road, reaching the first stretch of straight road before a gradual climb. Just ahead and to my right I saw momma deer jut out of the trees and cross the road, followed by baby bambi. As I was already going fairly fast, I slowed, but not attempting to stop as momma and baby were halfway across the road and still moving. It wasn’t until I was almost upon them when I noticed there was a second bambi still off to the right behind the trees/shrubs.

You can guess as to this third deer’s move – to scurry out to follow mom and sibling, which unfortunately coincided with my wheel’s path of travel. Although described in slow motion, this scenario spanned only a few seconds. I watched my front tire hit the deer and move left, I saw the pavement coming my way fast and I heard the sounds of helmet, bike and body hit the road, right side down. I don’t remember the rebounding bounce, but at some point I flipped over and scrapped the left side of my shoulder and arm as well (always looking for balance in life, I suppose). To answer everyone’s next question, as far as I know bambi’s sibling ran away unscathed – it was nowhere to be found once I got up from the acrobatic mess it triggered.

I did not go unconscious (that I remember, anyways;), and started moving various body parts to see what would or wouldn’t work. I was able to get up, pull my bike to the side of the road and perform a very minor assessment. Almost immediately I had blood streaming down from my right elbow, which seemed to take the brunt of the fall. All I could see was rather intimidating hole, now draining down my arm and all over my right thigh. I reached for my cell phone in the seat pouch and saw that I had nearly broken the seat off the post.  It was hanging on by a thread. Just at that time a car was heading towards me. My water bottles were strewn on the road and I attempted to motion to the driver with my left arm to slow down. To my utter and complete amazement, she ignored my arm waving and seemed to focus on not hitting my water bottles in her path, even as I saw the passenger inside pointing at me. How this individual made the decision not to stop continues to astound me. The amount of blood on my arm and thigh could not have been missed, nor the fact that my bike was on the ground next to me and my water bottles in the road.

I tried to send two text messages after calls wouldn’t go through, but to no avail – no cell coverage.  I then picked up my bike with my left hand, gathered my water bottles and started slowly walking – I did not have any choice, but at least I could walk with the pain. There were only two homes nearby and the first had no sign of life. I continued down to the second and into their driveway, loudly asking, ‘hello?! Needing a little help! Hello?” When this house’s dog began barking and coming towards me I chose to turn around and prayed it wouldn’t come after me. Just a few more steps up the road and I saw a man in the distance. ‘LIFE!’ was all I could think. I yelled that I needed a phone and he told me to wait a minute – there was one in the house I had just come from. As I waited for him a car approached from the other direction and I again waved at the driver. This time, thankfully, she stopped. Her name was Kathy and she owned the empty house I had first passed.

At first she offered her land line to place a call, but after 30 seconds of looking at me, my elbow and my bike, she offered to drive me to a hospital. We gave my bike to the man who had then arrived who apparently worked at the home with the dog. As I handed it over for safe keeping (I didn’t really have a choice as I couldn’t take it with me), I took a brief look at it and realized the seat was barely hanging on and both sides of the handle bars were severely damaged. I couldn’t wait to get a real good look at it later.

Kathy wrapped my elbow in a red sweatshirt (fitting) that she had in the trunk of her car and we headed to the hospital. As I waited to get cell reception, Kathy helped to keep me calm by asking questions. I had asked her if we could go to Valley Medical Center, being familiar with the good reputation of their trauma unit. Ironically, Kathy mentioned her sister was an ER nurse at VMC and could be working that day. I finally had cell reception at the bottom of Calaveras Road and began calling my family with the news and where I was headed. We arrived at VMC where I was seen almost immediately and Kathy’s sister ended up being my nurse (it felt like family). After a myriad of questions one nurse finally looked at my helmet and exclaimed, ‘wow – it’s cracked straight through’. Another detail I hadn’t thought of…my helmet truly saved my head.

Long story short, I spent the next six hours having my wounds cleaned (painful), many x-rays (nothing broken), lots of elbow prodding (even more painful – the cut was so deep they worried I might have damaged the tendon), and finally stitching. I heard over and over that I’d be sore for weeks (at least they were honest), and I must say that morphine and pain killers still weren’t enough for some of the ‘procedures’, but overall, it could have been so much worse. The attention given to me at VMC was phenomenal – even with all the hours spent, I felt very cared for, not to mention the immense help and compassion from my mom and sister.

I spent almost two full weeks in bed at my parent’s house being cared for by my mother as it is mainly stair-less and I had a very difficult time walking (or doing much of anything without help).  I learned the best ways to treat road-rash, although the stitches and the massive raspberry proved to be the most problematic.  I was devoid of almost all energy as my body healed.  I’d be awake long enough to eat, then would need to sleep.  That was the pattern for those 13 days.

The following two weeks were spent at half-speed, back at home but with minimal outings.  I would lose energy quickly and was only capable of working half days.  About a month after the crash I was back to work more or less full time, while enduring many physical therapy sessions that were unfortunately more about pain than soothing.

At six weeks out I was walking straight, but still felt a good amount of pain in my right elbow.  It hurt to push open a door, push down on a soap dispenser or engage the tricept in any way.  This made living problematic, and riding impossible as there is always downward pressure on your arms to the handle bars.  The road rash was almost all healed.

As I began contemplating riding again, I knew that one future goal would motivate me to keep pushing towards a full recovery.  Riding in the Death Ride for my fourth year in support of TurningWheels for Kids.  If that was my end goal, then I knew I had to start planning…so here I am again, on a new bike and with a new mission.

Legs surprisingly flat but warmed up. Enough sunlight to ride home via Alpine/Mtn Home. Actually cold at 92 + Canada!

81 days and counting, as Leah’s calendar entry shows. I’ve had a slow start to the season, lots of base miles and adapting to my new frame. Time to put it all to use and start building for the Death Ride! Did some simple 2×20x5@Z3 intervals on the way in to work this morning. And I plan on riding the Diablo Century on Sunday to shock the system with a nice long climb.