A Bike Crash
Oh hello.
I crashed on a bike. It hurt.
That's the short version. If you want to read the long version, proceed.
On Wednesday, we had a company retreat scheduled at the boss's cabin up at Wolf Creek Ranch. If you'll recall, I was also up there at Christmastime, doing something else really uncomfortable (snow mobiling). Thinking of trying that out was enough to give me a panic attack. So that happened. But it was really fun, thanks to Aaron's patience in riding me and Kellie around.
This time was going to be more new things: mountain biking and horse back riding.
Guys, I don't know the last time I actually rode a bicycle. Like, I genuinely have no idea. Maybe 12? This though... this was an electric bike--to help propel you up the mountains. That also means it is super heavy.
I didn't take the time to get the same tutorial as Kellie did from our local expert, Rick. He went over all the things with her, and I should've been right up there in their business, but I wasn't. So I had no idea how to switch gears. I thought the + power button was all I needed as I pedaled. Nope. It honestly wasn't me being consciously arrogant or confident; I was neither. I just didn't realize it was so complex or that the course would be so challenging.
I test rode the bike around the driveway. It was heavy. Stopping on it was basically impossible. The brakes were really sensitive, and the bike was too tall for me. I'm 60 inches tall. Having a too big, too heavy bike, and not riding a bike for many years, are terrible combinations, people. Add to my aforementioned lack of tutorial, and you have a recipe for disaster. I had to basically fall off the bike every time I stopped because my toes couldn't reach the ground, and every time I tried, my calves would go into wicked cramping mode. Not knowing the treacherous journey that lay ahead, I was optimistic even with the discomfort of the bike.
As soon as we took off, I fell way behind (read: knowing how to switch gears would have been helpful). Then my phone fell out of my back pocket.
Thankfully, I caught up with Travis, who stayed behind waiting for me.
The trail turned to dirt (and mud at some parts), and at first was exhilarating.
It was a beautiful morning with perfect weather. But after a while we were hitting some hills. The uphill was hard because hi, I still don't know how to switch gears. And the downhill was scary because hi, this bike is heavy, and I've never done this before.
After a horrifically frightening rocky, muddy downhill portion (read: "oh sh-- oh sh-- sh-- sh-- f--- f--- f--- I'm going to die. OK OK OK OK sh-- sh-- sh-- I made it sigh I'm alive"), my awesome outdoorsy coworker Deedee took the time to instruct me on the seat height and gear switching.
After the brief tutorial, the hills became MUCH easier. Thanks Deedee.
But in trying to make it down the next terrifyingly steep downhill portion riddled with tree roots across both sides of the path, I was taking it slow and braking. Bad idea. I was overcome with fear and caution. We know fear never brings good results.
My front tire caught on a tree root, and all I saw was ground coming at my face.
I landed on my left cheek and left shoulder. The fall itself was mostly shocking, less painful. I rolled over and started spitting out dirt while brushing out leaves that had woven into my 15 inch long ponytail. My friend and colleague Kellie was there before I knew it. (She later said she didn't think I'd be getting up from that fall, it looked so bad.)
They sat me down, and two others gathered around. I set my glasses to my right on the ground. I squirted water onto my dirty, skinned arm, and threw water over my dirt covered face. I also squirted water into my mouth to help get the rest of the dirt out. The whole time I was wanting to fast forward, feeling bad that I was holding up the group and that everyone was waiting on me. I don't like being waited on under normal circumstances, so being waited on after eating sh-- on an e-bike wasn't exactly ideal for this high anxiety human.
I was shaken up and humiliated. I absolutely did not want to get back on that bike. As far as I was concerned, it was a motorized torture device. But we were only halfway done with the trail. I got back on the bike, walked slowly with wobbly knees down the rest of the hill where I met back up with the rest of the group that looked upon me with pity and concern.
Jake offered to call the house to have them come get me with an ATV. I insisted on finishing and didn't want to keep saying so. I was trying so, so hard to keep it together. On top of the adrenaline of the fall, having everyone's eyes on me, feeling bad for holding everyone up, having everyone asking about my well-being, plus the pain and burning of the scrapes, it took everything I had not to burst into tears. I told him two or three times I was fine, and I would finish.
And finish, I did. As I came upon any downhill portions, I fell off my bike (remember this is how I have to get off the bike, since I can't reach the ground, even after lowering the seat), and walked it down the last three hills.
A couple of my colleagues stayed pretty close to me to make sure I was OK the rest of the way.
I was relieved when I got back to the house. I parked my bike, and Debra (my manager, and Utah substitute mom of 14 years) asked what I need and how she could help. I told her I'd be OK, I was just going to go to the bathroom. She said she'd get me some Advil.
I took off my shoes and went to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink and let the tears roll. I rinsed off my face and tried to assess the damage.
I sat down on the toilet and did what I wanted to do as soon as I was alone: Face Timed Matthew. Thank the heavens, he answered. I told him (well, I sob-snorted) what happened, and he was so sympathetic and did a great job calming me down. I am so grateful for this man in my life, and the care he shows me; there are some standout moments where he really handles me like a champ. And when I'm a red-faced sobbing train wreck who just crashed a bike (or an idiot who bumped a car in the parking lot and then scraped her own car on the cement pillar), he knows just what to do and say.
I kept him on the phone while I tried to dust off the dirt from my jeans, and get some of the mud off of my shirt. Even the area under my bra on my garments got super dirty.
I got one knock on the door from Jessica, asking if I was OK or needed anything. A few minutes later, a knock from Debra, and Jed right behind her, both with separate first aid kits.
They recommended that I let a wet wash cloth sit on my biggest scrape on my arm. We had a brief team meeting before lunch, so I sat on one of the love seats and was doted on by Jed, who decided the wash cloth wasn't wet enough, so he went to get it wetter, and Debra, who set up a rolled up towel to rest my arm on.
We went around in a circle and shared something we thought everyone wouldn't know about us yet. I shared about my first car.
Almost all the way around the circle, Jessica told a story about breaking her arm in elementary school, and going over the handle bars on her bike. I interrupted with, "Oh, I've never done that before." And the whole group laughed.
I mean, if I'm going to sit there looking bruised and miserable, I may as well make a joke about it.
After lunch, I was basically sent upstairs to rest. So I lay on a bed upstairs and struggled to rest, but documented my crash a little bit on Instagram first. I took two naps. I woke up for about ten minutes in between. Anna came to ask if I wanted to go on the horseback ride. It was mellow enough that I probably could've, but hearing everyone's complaints about their saddle bruises the next day made me glad I didn't go. I already had saddle bruises from thetorture device e-bike.
After I woke up from my nap and grabbed my glasses, I saw that the nose pad on the left had been smashed down toward the lens. When I landed, my glasses pushed down and into my nose, so my nose hurts still. But I'm so grateful my glasses didn't break.
The healing process has been pretty quick. After heading down from the cabin, I stopped at Crumbl to get some cookies (lay off me I crashed a bike and wanted cookies). I got home, showered to rinse off, and took a salt bath. I couldn't put my arm in, obviously. It burned something fierce.
I went to Saratoga Springs to see Matthew who took pretty delicate care of me, rubbing my legs and neck and shoulders. He let me use his friend's fancy massage chair, too, which was awesome. My calves were wrecked from the bike (and still are).
I didn't sleep at all on Wednesday night. My FitBit says I did, but I didn't feel like it. I drank 30oz of water throughout the night--kept waking up and guzzling like a camel. I tossed and turned and hurt so much I couldn't sleep. At one point I moved, and my arm scab peeled away from the sheet, so that was a nice little jolt awake.
Thursday morning, I went to work in a jumpsuit. This was a good plan initially, in that I was very comfortable. But the process of pulling the jumpsuit up and down while trying to go to the restroom proved very difficult for my wrecked shoulders. The soreness was so much worse from Tuesday's workout at Tekton Fitness, too (where I did single arm push presses with an 18lb kettle bell--woof). Adding to the way I fell onto the ground on Wednesday, my shoulders hurt more than you might expect.
The whole day yesterday I basically felt like I was hit by a truck. My ribs and abs hurt, my calves hurt, my shoulders hurt, my neck hurt, and my face hurt. I was still able to sell plasma, thankfully. It was my last donation of the month (and therefore the most money).
I went again to Saratoga Springs where once again my doting boyfriend rubbed my neck and shoulders and calves for me. But he had to go a lot easier because I was in a pretty absurd amount of pain.
Last night, I invested 20 minutes in some self-care. I took the time to put ointment on and bandage up my scabs. I rubbed CBD balm all over my neck and shoulders. I put frankincense oil under my eye. I took some Aleve, and also used a little bit of CBD under my tongue.
This morning, my alarm went off for me to (maybe) go running. I immediately raised my arms above my head to see how my neck and shoulder felt. I took a brief inventory of how the rest of my body was feeling. I got out of bed and felt calm and ready. I decided to try a run, and I promised myself that if it was too jarring or felt like too much, I'd turn around and come home. I don't ever like to skip training runs, especially the last of the 3 milers.
Thankfully, I made it through my run just fine, at a pace I was happy with (9:21). I have no greater pain than usual, and am in a lot less pain than yesterday. I even took a few minutes to foam roll my calves, inner thighs (the area around my knee was slightly bothersome during my run), and quads.
Before leaving my house, I rolled Icy Hot (Stopain is technically what it's called) over my neck and shoulder area, as well as my calves. If you're going to smell like an old person, you may as well commit, amirite? It's still very sore and stiff in the neck and shoulder area, but it's definitely progress over yesterday. And I'm feeling ready for my 8 mile run tomorrow morning.
My black eye is healing up OK, though the area under my eye is still tender to the touch. Landing on your face will do that I guess.
Sometimes, you try new things, and it's a disaster. I know after lots of failing forward, that new things usually need to be tried more than once; you're never good the first time. But I am not sure I'll ever ride an e-bike again unless it's a kid sized one, or it's at a flat beach boardwalk. I also don't think I'll ever mountain bike on a really hilly course; if I do, I'll take the downhill with a little more speed, since apparently that's what you're supposed to do. I will definitely take the time to learn all the tips and tricks of the more experienced cyclists. Time invested in learning and preparing is never wasted.
It's OK to not know how to do things. It's humbling and strengthening. Muscles get stronger after they tear, after all.
Who knows what the future holds? I can say with almost 100% certainty that I probably won't ever become a professional mountain biker. But at this point, I'm just really grateful I didn't break anything, or get any injuries that would've taken me out of this half marathon training season. I'm grateful to have a man who is sympathetic to my clumsiness and wants to make me feel better. I'm grateful to be able to try new things, even if they're way scarier than jumping out of airplanes. And I'm grateful to have such caring and concerned coworkers.
Here's to quick healing, and never eating sh-- on a mountain bike again.
I crashed on a bike. It hurt.
That's the short version. If you want to read the long version, proceed.
On Wednesday, we had a company retreat scheduled at the boss's cabin up at Wolf Creek Ranch. If you'll recall, I was also up there at Christmastime, doing something else really uncomfortable (snow mobiling). Thinking of trying that out was enough to give me a panic attack. So that happened. But it was really fun, thanks to Aaron's patience in riding me and Kellie around.
This time was going to be more new things: mountain biking and horse back riding.
Guys, I don't know the last time I actually rode a bicycle. Like, I genuinely have no idea. Maybe 12? This though... this was an electric bike--to help propel you up the mountains. That also means it is super heavy.
I didn't take the time to get the same tutorial as Kellie did from our local expert, Rick. He went over all the things with her, and I should've been right up there in their business, but I wasn't. So I had no idea how to switch gears. I thought the + power button was all I needed as I pedaled. Nope. It honestly wasn't me being consciously arrogant or confident; I was neither. I just didn't realize it was so complex or that the course would be so challenging.
I test rode the bike around the driveway. It was heavy. Stopping on it was basically impossible. The brakes were really sensitive, and the bike was too tall for me. I'm 60 inches tall. Having a too big, too heavy bike, and not riding a bike for many years, are terrible combinations, people. Add to my aforementioned lack of tutorial, and you have a recipe for disaster. I had to basically fall off the bike every time I stopped because my toes couldn't reach the ground, and every time I tried, my calves would go into wicked cramping mode. Not knowing the treacherous journey that lay ahead, I was optimistic even with the discomfort of the bike.
As soon as we took off, I fell way behind (read: knowing how to switch gears would have been helpful). Then my phone fell out of my back pocket.
Thankfully, I caught up with Travis, who stayed behind waiting for me.
The trail turned to dirt (and mud at some parts), and at first was exhilarating.
It was a beautiful morning with perfect weather. But after a while we were hitting some hills. The uphill was hard because hi, I still don't know how to switch gears. And the downhill was scary because hi, this bike is heavy, and I've never done this before.
After a horrifically frightening rocky, muddy downhill portion (read: "oh sh-- oh sh-- sh-- sh-- f--- f--- f--- I'm going to die. OK OK OK OK sh-- sh-- sh-- I made it sigh I'm alive"), my awesome outdoorsy coworker Deedee took the time to instruct me on the seat height and gear switching.
After the brief tutorial, the hills became MUCH easier. Thanks Deedee.
But in trying to make it down the next terrifyingly steep downhill portion riddled with tree roots across both sides of the path, I was taking it slow and braking. Bad idea. I was overcome with fear and caution. We know fear never brings good results.
My front tire caught on a tree root, and all I saw was ground coming at my face.
I landed on my left cheek and left shoulder. The fall itself was mostly shocking, less painful. I rolled over and started spitting out dirt while brushing out leaves that had woven into my 15 inch long ponytail. My friend and colleague Kellie was there before I knew it. (She later said she didn't think I'd be getting up from that fall, it looked so bad.)
They sat me down, and two others gathered around. I set my glasses to my right on the ground. I squirted water onto my dirty, skinned arm, and threw water over my dirt covered face. I also squirted water into my mouth to help get the rest of the dirt out. The whole time I was wanting to fast forward, feeling bad that I was holding up the group and that everyone was waiting on me. I don't like being waited on under normal circumstances, so being waited on after eating sh-- on an e-bike wasn't exactly ideal for this high anxiety human.
I was shaken up and humiliated. I absolutely did not want to get back on that bike. As far as I was concerned, it was a motorized torture device. But we were only halfway done with the trail. I got back on the bike, walked slowly with wobbly knees down the rest of the hill where I met back up with the rest of the group that looked upon me with pity and concern.
Jake offered to call the house to have them come get me with an ATV. I insisted on finishing and didn't want to keep saying so. I was trying so, so hard to keep it together. On top of the adrenaline of the fall, having everyone's eyes on me, feeling bad for holding everyone up, having everyone asking about my well-being, plus the pain and burning of the scrapes, it took everything I had not to burst into tears. I told him two or three times I was fine, and I would finish.
And finish, I did. As I came upon any downhill portions, I fell off my bike (remember this is how I have to get off the bike, since I can't reach the ground, even after lowering the seat), and walked it down the last three hills.
A couple of my colleagues stayed pretty close to me to make sure I was OK the rest of the way.
I was relieved when I got back to the house. I parked my bike, and Debra (my manager, and Utah substitute mom of 14 years) asked what I need and how she could help. I told her I'd be OK, I was just going to go to the bathroom. She said she'd get me some Advil.
I took off my shoes and went to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink and let the tears roll. I rinsed off my face and tried to assess the damage.
I sat down on the toilet and did what I wanted to do as soon as I was alone: Face Timed Matthew. Thank the heavens, he answered. I told him (well, I sob-snorted) what happened, and he was so sympathetic and did a great job calming me down. I am so grateful for this man in my life, and the care he shows me; there are some standout moments where he really handles me like a champ. And when I'm a red-faced sobbing train wreck who just crashed a bike (or an idiot who bumped a car in the parking lot and then scraped her own car on the cement pillar), he knows just what to do and say.
I kept him on the phone while I tried to dust off the dirt from my jeans, and get some of the mud off of my shirt. Even the area under my bra on my garments got super dirty.
I got one knock on the door from Jessica, asking if I was OK or needed anything. A few minutes later, a knock from Debra, and Jed right behind her, both with separate first aid kits.
They recommended that I let a wet wash cloth sit on my biggest scrape on my arm. We had a brief team meeting before lunch, so I sat on one of the love seats and was doted on by Jed, who decided the wash cloth wasn't wet enough, so he went to get it wetter, and Debra, who set up a rolled up towel to rest my arm on.
We went around in a circle and shared something we thought everyone wouldn't know about us yet. I shared about my first car.
Almost all the way around the circle, Jessica told a story about breaking her arm in elementary school, and going over the handle bars on her bike. I interrupted with, "Oh, I've never done that before." And the whole group laughed.
I mean, if I'm going to sit there looking bruised and miserable, I may as well make a joke about it.
After lunch, I was basically sent upstairs to rest. So I lay on a bed upstairs and struggled to rest, but documented my crash a little bit on Instagram first. I took two naps. I woke up for about ten minutes in between. Anna came to ask if I wanted to go on the horseback ride. It was mellow enough that I probably could've, but hearing everyone's complaints about their saddle bruises the next day made me glad I didn't go. I already had saddle bruises from the
After I woke up from my nap and grabbed my glasses, I saw that the nose pad on the left had been smashed down toward the lens. When I landed, my glasses pushed down and into my nose, so my nose hurts still. But I'm so grateful my glasses didn't break.
The healing process has been pretty quick. After heading down from the cabin, I stopped at Crumbl to get some cookies (lay off me I crashed a bike and wanted cookies). I got home, showered to rinse off, and took a salt bath. I couldn't put my arm in, obviously. It burned something fierce.
I went to Saratoga Springs to see Matthew who took pretty delicate care of me, rubbing my legs and neck and shoulders. He let me use his friend's fancy massage chair, too, which was awesome. My calves were wrecked from the bike (and still are).
I didn't sleep at all on Wednesday night. My FitBit says I did, but I didn't feel like it. I drank 30oz of water throughout the night--kept waking up and guzzling like a camel. I tossed and turned and hurt so much I couldn't sleep. At one point I moved, and my arm scab peeled away from the sheet, so that was a nice little jolt awake.
Thursday morning, I went to work in a jumpsuit. This was a good plan initially, in that I was very comfortable. But the process of pulling the jumpsuit up and down while trying to go to the restroom proved very difficult for my wrecked shoulders. The soreness was so much worse from Tuesday's workout at Tekton Fitness, too (where I did single arm push presses with an 18lb kettle bell--woof). Adding to the way I fell onto the ground on Wednesday, my shoulders hurt more than you might expect.
The whole day yesterday I basically felt like I was hit by a truck. My ribs and abs hurt, my calves hurt, my shoulders hurt, my neck hurt, and my face hurt. I was still able to sell plasma, thankfully. It was my last donation of the month (and therefore the most money).
I went again to Saratoga Springs where once again my doting boyfriend rubbed my neck and shoulders and calves for me. But he had to go a lot easier because I was in a pretty absurd amount of pain.
Last night, I invested 20 minutes in some self-care. I took the time to put ointment on and bandage up my scabs. I rubbed CBD balm all over my neck and shoulders. I put frankincense oil under my eye. I took some Aleve, and also used a little bit of CBD under my tongue.
This morning, my alarm went off for me to (maybe) go running. I immediately raised my arms above my head to see how my neck and shoulder felt. I took a brief inventory of how the rest of my body was feeling. I got out of bed and felt calm and ready. I decided to try a run, and I promised myself that if it was too jarring or felt like too much, I'd turn around and come home. I don't ever like to skip training runs, especially the last of the 3 milers.
Thankfully, I made it through my run just fine, at a pace I was happy with (9:21). I have no greater pain than usual, and am in a lot less pain than yesterday. I even took a few minutes to foam roll my calves, inner thighs (the area around my knee was slightly bothersome during my run), and quads.
Before leaving my house, I rolled Icy Hot (Stopain is technically what it's called) over my neck and shoulder area, as well as my calves. If you're going to smell like an old person, you may as well commit, amirite? It's still very sore and stiff in the neck and shoulder area, but it's definitely progress over yesterday. And I'm feeling ready for my 8 mile run tomorrow morning.
My black eye is healing up OK, though the area under my eye is still tender to the touch. Landing on your face will do that I guess.
 |
| Wednesday night |
 |
| Friday afternoon |
Sometimes, you try new things, and it's a disaster. I know after lots of failing forward, that new things usually need to be tried more than once; you're never good the first time. But I am not sure I'll ever ride an e-bike again unless it's a kid sized one, or it's at a flat beach boardwalk. I also don't think I'll ever mountain bike on a really hilly course; if I do, I'll take the downhill with a little more speed, since apparently that's what you're supposed to do. I will definitely take the time to learn all the tips and tricks of the more experienced cyclists. Time invested in learning and preparing is never wasted.
It's OK to not know how to do things. It's humbling and strengthening. Muscles get stronger after they tear, after all.
Who knows what the future holds? I can say with almost 100% certainty that I probably won't ever become a professional mountain biker. But at this point, I'm just really grateful I didn't break anything, or get any injuries that would've taken me out of this half marathon training season. I'm grateful to have a man who is sympathetic to my clumsiness and wants to make me feel better. I'm grateful to be able to try new things, even if they're way scarier than jumping out of airplanes. And I'm grateful to have such caring and concerned coworkers.
Here's to quick healing, and never eating sh-- on a mountain bike again.
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