The kindness of people

I could name this blog a lot of things, but this is the theme that sticks out in my memory.

Planning leisurely flat ride today after the hills of yesterday's 55+ miler, including revisit of St. Andrews with my friend Marathon Maniac #71 Eric Gierke and his Davidson, Julius (named for lovely orange color, plus Davey was already taken). Guth lost his backup bike on GLT. What now for team BRS?

Down the interurban train to Burke Gilman, then through Kirkland and parts of the 7 hills route, before landing in Marymoor park where Spiz does a lap on the velodrome (sorry, video not yet working). So far leisurely ride. Just navigated past a pack of people (conscientiously yelling "on your left" after being sniped at by an angry woman on Lake Washington Wednesday) on this 80+ degree morning. Was coasting along at >20 mph, at mile 43 when... how did it happen? I think I was looking down at my hand which was stinging from a cut, when I hit a bump, swerved hard to the right, and fell, hard. Think I landed on L hip before rolling onto the R side. Was whimpering and unable to move for over 5 minutes. Took at least 20 to just stand up without getting dizzy. Luckily a gentleman who works in the orthopedic department at UW had been right behind us and saw me go down. He checked all the standard hip maneuvres, the eponyms I can no longer recall, but the dude clearly knew what he was doing. No external rotation or shortening of the leg, check. No pain on percussion of sole of foot, check. No numbness/ paresthesias of the legs, check. But dang, did it hurt. I kept wondering if I had a pneumothorax or ruptured a spleen, boo hoo. Davey, of course, indestructible, just a derailed chain.

Kept getting dizzy on standing, horrible pain on weight-bearing, but all I could think was, I'd have to be unconscious before I would go to the ER, but dang no long ride tomorrow, no long runs this week, will I go psycho? One bystander commented, "at least you're alive"; I wondered if that was for the best. Another bystander walking by kept repeatedly stopping to check on me. Burly Raoul apparently had had numerous falls off various cycles and said sympathetically, "I'd be crying and asking for my mama right now". Spiz practically had to carry me and Davey 1/2 mile to the nearest parking lot where Raoul pulled his truck around to drive us all the way back to Everett.

Then it was Ranger Candy and an Amber Ale (or milk). That got me home to ice and a shower, where I studiously picked woodchips out of my roadrash. At least I have a beer left and the Tour is on. Happy 4th of July. Thanks Spiz and Raoul of Woodinville. Cheers