3 Crashes in 3 Days
Current mood:
mellow
New band I'm recommending? Not at all. But it would be a cool band name, better than lots I hear. But it's just my last 3 days on a bike.mellowOK, back-story. I started trying to get healthy after I quit smoking and joined a gym. I also started swimming. My first mile in the water took me an hour and 15 minutes but I made it, slowly. Started running on the treadmill. Once again, all gains came very slowly. I remember the first time I ran 2 minutes in a row. (I'd really been out of shape.) I saw the ad for the super sprint triathlon and decided to try it. My bike training consisted of getting on the bike I'd bought at Sports Authority years ago and pedaling six miles around the neighborhood (the same distance as the race) the day before the race. (Not exactly the best strategy, to be sure.) I finished the race, it was very hard. Decided my bike sucked totally. Left it on my front porch for a few days and it was thankfully stolen. So was in the market for a new bike.
My friend Bev (some of you know her, some of you know her by her reputation only, the defender of her shorter friend and assaulter of drunk obnoxious Trixies who dare to take my spot by the stage when I go to get another beer) and her husband have been into biking for years, and she kept talking more about it. They are road bikers, they've done centuries and across Florida rides, so she was helpful getting me into the sport. She found a sweet Giant hybrid in a thrift store for $10. (Kevin, you don't know but the bike was originally destined for you but it is a woman's bike so I got it....haha.) I took it to my local shop and got it road ready and took off. Started going up to Flatwoods, a park close to my house. It's got a 7 mile paved one way loop, with a 2 mile jaunt over to another entrance that's two way. I was so proud the first time I made it around the 7 mile loop. And then, my god, I made it 2 loops, 14 miles. OK, so it took over an hour, but damnit, I did it.
I decided to try another tri, sprint distance. Don't remember the exact distances but think the swim was 1/2 mile, bike 12 miles, and the run was 4 miles)...In this one everyone had their age on the back of their calves and that determined your wave. I did OK in the swim (I sucked but didn't drown....Swimming is not supposed to be a contact sport but it is in a tri) and ran back to the transition area (slowly...I was barefoot and the pavement hurt my tender feet) and got going pretty quickly on my bike. I knew so little about biking at this point. I was clueless. EVERYBODY passed me. Some guy pulled up and said ....hey, you're doing this on a fat tire too...good for you. (I didn't know what he meant by fat tire at that point, an off road vs. a road bike.) And pedaled on past me. I saw the waves behind me pass me. I saw the ages inked on their calves. Saw the 40s pass me by, the 50s, the 60s...when a lady 70+ zipped by me, I resolved to get a better bike.
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I did pass one woman on the bike. She was really overweight. But I was delighted with that one small victory. As I pulled into the transition area, my son Justen, about 9 at the time cried out, LOUDLY, "ALL RIGHT, MOM!!!! YOU'RE NOT IN DEAD LAST!!!" because there were still people behind me. Every one in earshot howled with laughter. He didn't get the wave thing. I was in dead last for my age group. I resolved then and there to get a better bike, so a while later I bought an entry level road bike by Giant. The bike shop fit me, I've got an XXS frame.
I kept riding up and Flatwoods and slowly improved. Got going a few more miles every time. Bev would ride with me sometimes. One time she asked if I wanted to make it harder and I said NO. So, let's FF to about a year ago. Bev and I were riding. We got going late, it was a brutally hot day. I'll admit it now, for the first time, that I was probably a bit hung over. My mom had been staying with me after major surgery for almost 2 months at that point, and quite frankly, driving me nucking futs. I'm thinking that was part of it, 'cause I don't think I was that out of shape....but...about a mile into our ride we find this tiny baby tortoise in the middle of the paved path. (Hell, now that I think about it it may have been a tortoise vs. a terrapin) but Bev was convinced it needed to get to water and the next water source was a mile + away so she took off with this little critter it one hand. She kept going faster and faster and I tried to keep up. It was really, really hot and humid and I was huffing and puffing trying to keep up with her. We got to the bridge with water and she let the critter go and we resumed our ride. Went up to the other parking lot and came back, and about 7 miles into our ride I started feeling queasy. I tried to ride thru it but realized I couldn't. Aimed for some shade, got off my bike, and did the recommended thing by putting my head between my legs.
Right then a park ranger truck drove up. It was a serendipitous coincidence. I was feeling pretty damned nauseous. The ranger put my bike in the back of his truck, put me in the air conditioned cab, and took me back to the parking lot. Bev rode her bike back. I was feeling pretty queasy and the ranger kept up a steady flow of chatter…… 'you've got to ride at your own pace, not try to keep up with someone else.'…. I checked my reflection in the mirror to see if I was bright purple and was relieved that I was only a mottled red. We were almost back to the parking lot when I realized the radio in the truck was tuned to my radio station, 88.5. I brightened up a bit and started talking about the station and that I had a show. A friendship was forged that day. The ranger's name is Clint, and he, along with his wife (the very dynamic Barb), have become my bike mentors. He encouraged me to get a computer for my road bike and keep the cadence between 90-100. He's worked on my bike. He gave me an old set of pedals and encouraged me to get the clips (which I finally did a few weeks ago w/ my economic stimulation check.) They both went with me to look at a mountain bike. In exchange I've baked for them and made CD mixes (things I'm good at.)
I've had my mountain bike for about two months now. The thoughts from all the riders I know here in Tampa is that full suspension is really, really good to have here on the trails we have, with all of the roots. I scoured Craig's List for months and finally found a used, small frame full suspension mountain bike at a price I could afford. The woman who sold it to me had just moved from CA. She'd had it a year, been out a few times on it, had fallen and decided she preferred a road bike. A Trek Fuel 80. Sweet, sweet bike. Almost too big for me but I'm making it work.
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Tuesday I went mountain biking with my friend John, fondly known as big John. He's one big, gregarious guy. Kept apologizing for talking my ear off but I don't mind. It's positive chatter, not negative. John's been riding for 15 years and would be a super competitive rider if he'd lose 50 lbs, but he just enjoys getting out in the woods and I feel fortunate that I've found him to ride with. I tell everyone that I made the mistake of saying hello to him and it was all over. We've been riding buddies ever since.
So anyway, I'm a pretty timid rider. Some of the trails here are very technical, with really sharp turns, roots and stumps and palmetto roots in the trail, and a lot of sand. I've gotten better but I'm still a beginner. In our park system where I ride there's a main trail that's a 15 mile loop, some tricky stuff and some smooth and easy stuff. John and I had done that before, and I wanted to try some of the myriad side trails. An aside, when I go over some really tough stuff I tend to curse a lot. Potty mouth Jennifer, really. My favorite epitaph that day was "Fuck me!" when I conquered some difficult terrain. I told John he could tell all his cohorts that he had a woman screaming, demanding to have sex with him. Anyway, he took me down Indian (noted at the beginning: Very Difficult Trail) and I just had one part that I had to get off and walk my bike over. Felt good about that. Then we went over to Heartbreak Ridge (also noted, Very Difficult Trail) and we go in and I'm almost immediately knocked off my bike when my handlebars hit a tree that I misjudged. But I didn't fall. That was later.
When I'd heard the name of the trail, Heartbreak Ridge, I envisioned something high in the sky. This is not. This is a ridge through a swamp. The trail itself is less than a foot wide and on either side it slopes sharply down into the bog. It's dry now but during the rainy season it'd be wet and filled with mosquitoes. When I say 'trail' what I really mean is tree roots. For part of the trail there is no dirt, it's just gnarly tree roots. John kept saying, 'OK, that was the bad part,' and then we'd hit something worse. I know you're supposed to keep your eyes focused further down the trail and not look down but I looked down, marveling at the mass of knotty roots below me, and BAM! I fell down. Injuries: my pride. I picked the bike and myself up, walked it over a mass of tanglewoody knotty roots, and resumed the ride. I'm pretty short, don't have far to fall, and I know in my heart of hearts that wiping out is part of this sport. I felt good about that wreck, no blood, no damage.
So, Wednesday I go riding my road bike with my friend Andrew. Andrew recently was laid off from his job (which he is delighted about, BTW, it was an incredibly stressful job and he was about at his wit's end anyway and he got a sweet severance package so overall it's all for the best) so he had time to go riding during a weekday. We head up to Flatwoods, do the seven mile loop, then during the next loop we decide to head over to the Bruce B. Downs side, which adds four miles to your trip. This is only my third or fourth ride with my new pedals and shoes with the clips. Andrew was entertaining me with his stories about the crashes he had had with the clips. We had gone down the gulley and were going up the hill when I saw a ranger truck. The ranger honked and waved and I knew it was Clint. He was slowing down to say hi so I tried to stop my bike while I was going up hill and I slowed and I realized to my horror that I had not clipped out and BAM! down I went. I lay on the hot pavement, stunned, for a moment. I'd hit my knee pretty good, it was bleeding. Andrew was watching, bemused, and Clint pulled up, hopped out of the truck and drawled, "Aren't you glad I gave you those pedals?" They both had a good laugh at my expense. I guess I'm glad that if I did it, it was in front of two friends and not a bunch of strangers. Clint continued, "Man, I wish I'd seen you go down, it must have been spectacular. I just saw the aftermath." He offered first aid for my bleeding knee but I said I'd wait until after the ride. OK, so second crash in two days, blood's been drawn. I was a bit shaky but walked my bike up the hill and Andrew and I continued the ride.
I'd been emailing back and forth a bit with Barb. She's recently started the Florida Women's Cycling Network. To join, they ask your goals. One of mine is to be able to conquer Panther, another one of the difficult trails. I'd tried to ride it a month ago and had fallen and ended up walking most of it. She offered to take me and help me. "You'd ride with me???" I was dumbfounded. She's an expert level mountain biker. But her goal is to encourage riders and make them better. We met Thursday in the parking lot at Trout Creek. The first thing she had me do is go over the cement parking stoppers. I worked up the courage and rode around and aimed my bike toward the barrier. I almost pulled up at the last minute but my bike went over, anyway. Damn, I could do it! Did that another half dozen times or so. She said those barriers were bigger than any roots we would encounter out on the trail. She was building my confidence up.
She got behind me as we rode, "Keep pedaling, keep pedaling," was her mantra. Through the turns, everything, keep pedaling, keep pedaling. Brake if you need to but keep pedaling while you're braking. She kept on with tip after tip, and encouragement. If I touched down she'd have me redo that section. Momentum is your friend. Your bike is built to handle this, your bike can get over anything in this trail, you've just got to pedal it and point it in the right direction. Look down the trail, not right in front of you, pick your line and ride it, look down the trail. And keep pedaling, keep pedaling. I was working hard, breathing like the bikers in The Triplets of Belleville (wonderfully funny and quirky movie, French, animated.) I had some trouble when the trail disappeared almost entirely due to the hogs digging for roots and it was down to mere inches but she rode through it without a problem. We kicked some of the dirt back so I had more trail to ride on so I made it thru that, but right after that were two huge trees with their huge tree roots to go over, and after that was a series of palmetto roots to go over. The tree roots got me the first time, I stepped off. Did it again and got to the palmettos and my bike stopped flat against one of the big palmettos (I would pick the line with the highest roots to get over.) I finally muscled my way over the palmettos and was feeling pretty good about it. Barb was on my tail, encouraging me. I was looking ahead and saw a fairly sharp turn, followed by another big series of palmettos. I knew I had to pick up some speed to make it over that series of roots. I still don't know what happened but one second I'm riding and the next BAM! I'm on the ground. I hit hard. I didn't even have time to anticipate going down and formulate a plan to make it more dramatic. Barb approached and asked, timidly, "Are you mad?" I'm pretty sure I laughed. I wasn't mad, just hurt. I had blood dripping down my leg this time. I had a fairly deep cut on my knee- right above the previous day's injury- and my elbow and arm were scraped up, too. Oh, boy, my worst injury yet! I was really shaky and it took a few minutes to recover, but we did finish the trail. Barb was apologetic, worried about me. I told her not to worry about it, but I did not feel like taking Panther back the other way. We took a different trail back to the car, much easier.
She regaled me with tales of her crashes on the way back. It's part of the sport. She did say she had some knee pads she was going to lend me. If I'd had them on then I wouldn't have been hurt in the crash. Yes, yes, yes I'll take the knee pads. She said she was timid when she first started too, and that made me feel better. She's been at it ten years, she pointed out, and I've been at it two months. I will get better, she promised.
I got home and didn't shower right away. Had to show off my bloody knee to my kids, "Hey guys, you ready to come biking with me???" and wait for my husband to get home so I could elicit as much sympathy as possible. It worked; I got him to make dinner (heat up leftovers.)
This morning I got a text from Clint. He'd sent it last night but I was probably already asleep. It said: 'Momentum is your friend. Your Trek will go over everything even if u don't." I replied back, 'The faster you go, the harder you fall.'
I was supposed to go riding with John and Bev today but Bev backed out and I decided not to take a chance on four for four. My knee is pretty damned achy, as is my arm. I think I'll heal for a day or two before I hit the trails again.
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