Eh, It's Just a Bike Crash

A few weeks ago I posted a blog about relaxing and going with the flow, about my races seeking to go better when something went a little wrong.  Apparently I should be careful what I wish for as approximately three hours later I found myself disoriented and bleeding in the middle of a country road after flipping over my handlebars for no apparent reason.  This was my first bike crash (other than tipping over in my parking lot or falling off the trainer) and I was a mere six days out from USAT Age Group Nationals.  Lovely. 

Anyway, after finding myself on the pavement I took care of the important things in the following order: 1. Stopped my watch, 2. Gave my bike a once over, 3. Messaged my coach, and lastly 4. Checked myself for any major damage.  I had landed straight on my face and head then rolled so the right side of my face banged up, road rash on right shoulder and left knee, and a good bruise coming in on my right quad from hitting my aero bars as I went over.  My head was feeling a bit foggy but fortunately nothing seemed to be broken (except my helmet) – yes, because I’m a big weirdo athlete I was relieved to realize my face had taken the brunt of things (three weeks later I’ve established that I probably chipped my chin but it’s not deformed so oh well).  After resigning that I wouldn’t be riding the 15 miles home I called my dad who was up on the boat but arranged a pickup for me (thank you to Gerry and Cheryl Meyer – always good to know the church family of my youth still has my back).  Despite the fact that I’m fairly certain I got a minor concussion, I decided against wasting time and money on a hospital trip and spent the rest of the evening icing and relaxing (yes, I repeatedly checked my pupils and made sure to stay awake for like seven hours). 

To be honest, the next few days sucked.  I was disoriented for about 36 hours and about the sorest I’ve ever been.  Fortunately, I was able to maintain my normal training schedule as taper and recovery melded well.  My spectacular father took Maureen in and all fixed up by the awesome crew at Attitude Sports; fortunately she was uninjured and only needed some minor tweaks.  By Wednesday, I was running again (even if it felt like my quad was going to fall off the bone) and by Thursday the aching had mostly subsided. 

It was a busy and fun weekend with Ian flying in Wednesday and Hannah coming Thursday from Arizona.  On Friday, we loaded up and headed down to Milwaukee for some course recon and packet pickup.  Boy oh boy, it’s awesome having a big race so close to home; I think not having to travel more than an hour basically made up for any crash damage.  As an added bonus, I had the opportunity to meet my hero Chrissie Wellington – a lady who’s overcome much worse crashes than I had!  Ian and I stayed with my cousin Jacqueline very close to the race site which made for a relaxing Friday night and a very fun Saturday. 

Swim Recon

Getting some inspiration from the great Chrissie Wellington!

Come race morning, I was surprisingly relaxed.  My quad was still giving me grief and my right shoulder was hurting but I knew it was nothing I couldn’t handle.  I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day and the course was pretty stinkin awesome.  Long story short, I had a pretty great race.  There were some rubber band issues with my T1 but that’s about the only issue.  I got out of the water in about 18th age group, and off the bike somewhere around 10th.  That’s when the fun began.  Slowly but surely, I started picking off ladies, especially in the final two miles.  For someone who’s “not a runner” it was great to finally realize that I am; that I am stronger than I once thought.  In the end I finished 4^th in the 25 – 29 division and 8^th overall; what an improvement from last year! 

Thanks for everything Mom and Dad!

Clearly I'm more rested than Ian at this point (my race was almost an hour before his)

Basking in our post race glory

I was slightly disappointed after realizing that I was a mere 18 seconds from top 5 overall, wondering if a better transition or lack of crash might have made all the difference.  However, as I said before, no one ever has a perfect race and that was just how my cards fell.  I’ve improved so much in the last year.  I have improved dramatically and it’s not over yet.  While I hate to see my tri season draw to a close, I’m excited for my final multisport race in Des Moines next weekend at the Hyvee Championship.  We’ll see what happens if I can keep from crashing and wear the proper shoes all in one race!

Many thanks to Jacqueline, my parents, Ian, and Hannah for sitting through the epicly long awards ceremony

I like podiums

Racing Rasta

Don’t worry be happy: so easy to say so hard to live by.  You can be kind and call it “Type A” or be honest and say high strung, neurotic, or anal retentive; but no matter how you word it, stressed out has typically been my racing style (especially for the big ones).  However, a series of events, unfortunate and otherwise, this season has had me rethinking my approach. 

Last month I drove up to Minnesota to race Lifetime Minneapolis.  This had been slotted as a big race for me with some heavy competition and the potential of earning a pro card.  I became nervous four days before the event when I noticed that one of my glands was swollen – usually a sign that I am coming down with a cold.  As the weekend approached, I continued to swell until Friday when I woke up with a visible lump on the right side of my neck and face.  I had stayed with my aunt the night before at the halfway point so I made a quick stop in urgent care before heading up where I was told that it was probably just an irritation and to not worry too much.  After popping far too many ibuprofen and meeting up with a few former teammates (Evan Koenig, Chris Leiferman, and Kyle Bevers) I felt a bit better but still not great.  Morning came with an even larger face and an unexpected deviation from the weather forecast.  It was raining and storming so hard I drove to the race site with white knuckles.  The entire area was flooded and heavy lightning prompted race directors to delay the start and encourage everyone to wait in their cars.  Once we were allowed to enter transition, I set transition wet and shivering clad in a garbage bag.  Before long we were informed that the Olympic distance bike course was under water and the event was changing to a sprint.  The pro field, however, would have a slightly longer swim than the amateurs, meaning the race was no longer a pro qualifier.  Suddenly the pressure was off.  While I could have been upset I made the conscious decision to have fun in the race and take it for what it was.  Low and behold, I came in as the third overall female – not too shabby considering that within the next 36 hours I was in the emergency room as my face and neck swelled out of control (turned out to be an infected salivary gland in case you’re curious)!

Finish line smiles in Minnesota

Illness kept me from training for the next several days and from doing anything substantial for a full week.  Eager to get back into it, I had a tough but solid week of training the next week leading up to Giant Eagle Triathlon in Columbus, OH (a training race for me).  I won’t bore you with details but to summarize: I stayed with my friend Margaret in the Chicago area Friday night (staying up entirely too late chatting – oops), forgot about the time change and got into Columbus later than expected, dealt with some nutty situations at the expo (including being followed and having our ears talked off by a strange man and an enormous plastic colon for children to play in), had to get poor Ian’s bike fixed (I swear he’s cursed), didn’t have a chance to ride/run on the course or to swim, and took the risk of eating grocery store sushi for dinner after realizing how late it had gotten and that there was nothing else without wheat in the deli.  All of this led to a much later than desired bed time which was followed by fairly interrupted sleep (we were on the same floor as a wedding party – oy).  In the morning, we jammed out while eating breakfast and then walked down to T2 from our incredibly conveniently located hotel.  As it was a two transition race, we set up T2 (in the dark) before boarding busses to T1.  Once arriving at the race start, we were relatively crunched for time so I quickly set up transition and went for a brief warmup run.  As I started stripping down to get my wetsuit on I looked at my feet for the first time since I had tried on my shoes to make sure everything felt right while setting up T2 … and realized I had two different shoes on – one racing shoe and one training shoe.  It quickly sunk in that this fact meant that the same combination of shoes was waiting for me in T2 and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.  I couldn’t help myself but laugh.  While historically any ONE of these pre-race details would have freaked me out, the low pressure mindset of the race allowed me to stay relaxed and anxiety free.  So what happened in my race? I not only won the amateur field but I posted a 10k PR, breaking 40 minutes for the first time!

Oops

Ian showing off his orangutan arms at our post-race adventure to the Columbus zoo

("Whoa, do you have a unicorn on your shirt?!" - quote from a small ginger child)

Throughout my eight hour drive back to Wisconsin the next day I had a lot of time to reflect on the peaks and valleys of my season thus far and noticed a pretty obvious trend.  At my B/C races (Havasu, Capitol View, Lifetime, and Giant Eagle) where I didn’t put too much stress on myself I had great races and met or exceeded my goals.  However, at my high pressure A races where I made an effort to ensure everything was perfect (unending thank you’s and apologies to Ian for putting up with me for both of these races), I was extremely disappointed in my results.  While I considered that this may have been a natural consequence of having had loftier goals at these races, I don’t think that is the reality; I had still set the bar pretty high at the other ones, I just wasn’t as worried about the details.  Instead, the hard truth is that at the big ones I let my anxiety get the best of me and I cracked under the pressure.  In hindsight I can say that a big part of me gave up as soon as things weren’t perfect and I wasn't exactly where I wanted to be.  I didn't dig as deeply as I could have because my heart was saying, “Oh well, it’s already ruined.” 

So now I have a new goal and it is probably the greatest challenge I’ve taken on in this sport yet: change my attitude.  As I approach my next two big races (Age Group Nats and Hyvee Chamionship) I’m doing my best to be fully prepared but to then trust my training and to, more than anything, go with the flow.  I have never had a “perfect” race and probably never will – I don’t think anyone ever has.  It’s time to remember how much I love this sport and to enjoy whatever it throws at me.  To quote the rasta man himself, “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, every little thing is gonna be all right.” 

Staying relaxed pre-race in Columbus with a little dance party

- new tradition perhaps?

**The title of this post does not indicate that the author of this blog or her affiliates support the use of illicit or performance enhancing drugs legal or otherwise in or out of competition.