15 Stitches is the Least of my Worries

This weekend I decided to do my first fresh time trial and second road race ever. It all started when I went to go ride with the local Zia-Velo cyclists here in Las Cruces. Most of the crew was going to be absent and those that were left were going to drive down to El Paso for a 30K bike time trial. Dave and Jason got to talking and convinced Taylor and I to go with them since they had two extra seats.

I had never done a fresh time trial but I thought it would be a terrific idea seeing as I could accurately gauge my fitness since it was about three weeks until the Vineman (my first ironman). Well the time trial went well. I ended up placing fourth in the 'A' category and fifth over all. Not bad. After the race (or maybe it was before?) Jason mentioned that there will be a 50 mile road race the next day. Were Taylor and I interested? Taylor and I though about if for a minute, then agreed. Nothing beats free race entry. You rock Jason!

So the next day we rolled off at 7:30 for the road race. It was a hilly little course that finished atop the Trans Mountain Road (the biggest climb in the area). I was excited the finish would be up hill since, one, I can't go down hills, and two, I can't sprint. Riding in a big group is still very scary for me. I would still rather be on the front setting the pace or strung out on a climb. Each time we started creeping up a hill I found myself near the front. I chased down every break and was working my ass off when Bret hollered at me to stop chasing every rider down and to basically chill out. Realizing that this is indeed an endurance event and not a sprint I backed off and just rode sensibly for a while.

Now coming up to the final hill our group was easily half the size it started out to be. Then, when nothing exciting in the world was happening and I was minding my own business...BAM! I was on the ground with intense pain and confusion. The rider behind me hit my head and down he went too breaking his collar bone. I laid in the position I landed in for a good minute before moving up off the busy road. My ribs hurt very badly and blood was gushing from my chin creating a small red pool below my head. The bike race was unquestionably over and before I knew it, I was in an ambulance heading to the hospital.

Cutting out some gory details I ended up breaking my left number nine rib and received 15 stitches in my chin including three or four very big deep ones. When I met back up with Taylor and Tim (who was kind enough to drive me home) we didn't even need to say anything. We both knew that the Vineman in three weeks would probably be out. How did this happen? Why did this happen? Why me? An Ironman is plenty to bite off if you are healthy, but with a broken rib? I just don't know.


15 stitches to the chin.