An otherwise terrific ride was spoiled by a slow-motion crash inside the last mile. There was a 100-foot-long yellow line separating two lanes that, unbeknownst to me, had 30 feet in the middle that is an elevated curb. I drifted into it and went down hard.
I heard a click when I hit the ground and I was sure it was my collarbone breaking (as that is a very common injury for cycling crashes and among my greatest fears). I’m sure my recollection is suspect, but I remember lying on the ground for a second waiting for the broken bone pain/nausea to kick in and when it didn’t I eased up to my knees. My shoulder hurt from driving into the asphalt but I had full range of motion. Once I figured out that the click wasn’t my collarbone I figured that it was my helmet so I did a quick assessment to see if I was woozy. I passed that test(?) and got to my feet to see how torn up I was. My shorts and jersey didn’t tear but my forearm and lower leg were a bloody, road-rashed mess. I checked my bike which surprisingly didn’t show any signs of damage. The wheels stayed true and nothing was bent out of place. I took another minute to collect myself and finished out the ride. Post-ride beers beers at Adam‘s were welcome. I could feel the pain from the impact echoing through the soft tissue of my shoulder and across my ribs. It sucked. Big time.
I opted for wearing short pants and short sleeves to work for a couple of days this week while my mess dried out. I wasn’t trying to ruin shirts and pants for the sake of a dress code (and I’m fortunate to work in a place where I can make that call). I’ve been Advil-ing like a champ which has kept me from sinking too deep into painville but sleeping has been an uncomfortable pursuit. My biggest concern is the pain under my right scapula. It isn’t as sharp as it was on Sunday night but it hasn’t recovered as quickly as the rest of me has.
I don’t know that I have a lesson to share here other than “Don’t Crash On Asphalt”.