Weekend Update - Crash at Gear West Duathlon

It was a weird weekend all together starting with Friday night.  Maybe with the end of the world coming on Saturday, I should have known better than to race Sunday???  Well, here's the weekend recap...

Friday night was the "Stay Out of the Sun Run" in NW Rochester.  The weather was reminiscent of the whole weekend - WEIRD.  The forecast threatened rain and by the time Kathy and I got ready to drive in a little after 5 PM, it was getting dark and pouring.  To be clear, I was only a spectator at this race, saving my legs for today's event in Orono (not to be confused with Oronoco).  We pulled into Holy Spirit and boy did it look like a crappy night.  I'd planned to do a couple of short runs before and during the race to keep fresh for the weekend, but just wasn't in the mood to gut out another wet run.  Of course, 15 minutes before the race started, the rain stopped.  I enjoyed seeing good friends at the race and while it was difficult not to compete, I was feeling some things going on with my stomach that would have made racing miserable that evening....so it worked out.

Saturday morning I got up and knew I needed to do something to wake my legs up a little, since I'd done nothing of value since about Tuesday night.  I decided I'd do an easy run/bike combo outside.  I pulled up the radar quick - nope, not going outside.  It was just about to start raining again.  I went into the DAHLC to do an easy 30 minute run/30 minute bike combo.  Man, was the run tough!  I wasn't doing anything that hard but my legs were sound asleep.  By the time I got off the bike, I felt a little better about it.  I got changed and looked outside - absolutely pouring.  Wow, go figure.

I hadn't taken close notice of the race start time for today's race until yesterday - realizing about 2 PM that the race started at 8.  The transition therefore opened at 6:30 - yeesh!  I mentioned the situation to Kathy and she promptly started looking for hotel rooms in the area.  We were able to find a very nice Sheraton that allowed dogs in Minnetonka.  Perfect!

On our drive up, we again dodged major storms.  MPR was breaking in with tornado warnings for the exact area we were heading to.  It was odd as there were no storm clouds in our area.  As we got closer to Minnetonka, it started to get scary dark.  We arrived at the hotel at the perfect time though - right after the storms came through.  But it was still weird looking out there (notice how much I'm saying weird?).

During the remainder of our evening, Kathy and I worked on plans for what we'd do in the morning for breakfast and getting to the transition area at a decent time.  We didn't seem to have a ton of options and I was a little concerned with getting something in my stomach early enough to digest and be ready at 8.  We had a plan in mind but it wasn't ideal...perhaps that was one of the reasons I had trouble settling down for the night.

I had an awful time falling asleep.  I don't know what it was - perhaps some nerves, maybe the room was unfamiliar, I can't put my finger on it.  I didn't finally drop off to sleep until past midnight and knew I only had 5 hours before I was up and getting ready.  I had an uneasy feeling the whole evening - the rain perhaps, knowing the course was tough, understanding how the rain was going to make this a tough race?  I don't think I have psychic powers, but something just felt off. 

At 2 AM, I received a wet wake up.  It was Riley - he was freaking out because there were more thunderstorms in the area.  Our golden commonly goes crazy when it storms - we think the thunder hurts his ears.  Anyway, he wanted me to know it was time to get up and address his fears - he was panting loudly and circling the room.  Kathy immediately flew out of bed to take care of him and let me go back to sleep.  I could hear them in the bathroom - Riley panting and crying and Kathy trying to shut him up.  Fortunately, I'd brought ear plugs, so I popped them in and was able to get back to sleep.  At 5 AM, the alarm went off.

Where is Kathy?  I thought perhaps she had taken Riley outside when the alarm went off.  I got up and went in the bathroom and there she was - asleep in the bathtub!  She had taken the comforter off the bed, rolled it into a makeshift cushion and crawled in the bathtub with Riley.  I walked in and she laid there asleep with a smile on her face - funniest thing I've ever seen!

We got ourselves ready to go and made it to the transition area right at 6:30.  I got my things all set up and ready to go -- then the mental game began.  I had known going in that this was going to be a tough and competitive race.  I looked around at all the aero bikes - rows and rows of them.  One solid athlete after another.  I couldn't believe how many strong guys I saw.  I tried shaking it off but it was tough to do.  I'm sure time and experience will help with this block.  I got warmed up and we were ready to start.....

I didn't really have a stategy for this particular race.  I have zero experience running on trails or grass and had no idea what to expect.  I figured I'd just wing it and see what happened.  The competitive wave started, followed by the relays....then it was my turn.  The first mile was pretty well all paved for the most part.  I started out fast and had a 5:51 first mile.  That's when the course got much tougher.  We started doing short, very steep (and slippery) up hills on grass/mud surfaces.  Eventually, we wound back into the woods on what appeared to be on some sort of man made trail.  As you can imagine with all the rain, it wasn't just wet, it was pure mud.  I've never run in mud before - but it's hard.  You can't gain any traction and you just go all over, not to mention it's nearly impossible to pass.  There were 10-15' patches that weren't even grass - you were running in ankle deep water and mud.  It was a mess - it was extremely difficult.  My second mile was a 6:40 - understandably.  I was also tanked.  By the time I finally wound out of the woods, I wondered if I'd ever make it past the first run.  I had moved to about 4th in my wave right behind this guy that didn't look like a runner at all.  As I followed him around a bend, I heard some guys yelling, "You have to run up the hill."  Shit.  I looked back and saw what they were saying - we'd missed a turn.  So much for my strategy of following the guy in front of me!

It was a small detour but probably cost me 15-20 seconds.  By the time I wound back, I think I'd dropped to 6th or 7th in my wave but very close to the others.  I hoped my bike would make up for the small blunder.  As it turned out, it wouldn't matter that much.

I came in R1 very winded and just shy of 19 minutes. I felt good about my time, but looking at my Garmin data, it appears R1 was only about 2.9 miles....so not that impressive.  I located my bike, got ready and got on the road.

As has been true in past races, I was immediately moving past people.  I shot past 3 of the guys in my wave right away and every other one but the lead guy by mile 3 or 4.  I was feeling descent about possibly catching the little speedster from our wave who'd run SO fast and was probably 3-4 minutes ahead of me off the run.  Just as I was getting into a good rhythm and comfortable, it started to rain.  Shoot, here we go again.

The roads were getting slippery now and the corners more treacherous.  That said, it wouldn't be the roads leading to my demise today...it was purely getting careless.  Somewhere between mile 6 and 7, after passing a couple relay cyclists, I drifted a little too close to the gravel shoulder.  I was at a point in the race where I could feel a moderate cross-wind but had ducked into a wooded area for a moment.  Without realizing it, I came out of the woods and caught a little puff of cross wind.  It was enough to push me off the road onto the gravel shoulder.  This has happened to me before and in hindsight, I probably got lucky in not crashing before now.  I'd been able to slowly and confidently bring myself back onto the pavement and keep going.  Today wasn't that day.  I might have panicked a little - I don't know - it happened very quick.  As I hit the gravel, I tried to guide my tires back onto the pavement.  There was a small lip in the pavement and the tires couldn't overcome it.  My tires stuck and down I went.  It wasn't the worst fall in history but it was the worst fall (the only fall) in my history.  I knew immediately I'd hit pretty hard and had been moving 20+ MPH. 

I popped right up and looked down at my left hip.  I knew that's where the greatest impact was and was shocked that my shorts hadn't shredded.  I suspected I had scraped the heck out of my hip too but couldn't tell.  I looked up and down my arm down to my ankle - I was starting to bleed pretty good already.  Without thinking, I threw my leg over and tried to clip back in.  My pedals spun....I'd dropped my chain.  I flipped my bike over worked to reset the chain.  It never even dawned on me that my bike could be unrideable.  It seemed like I was only there about a minute but my Garmin data says it was almost 3.  About 10, maybe 12 people rode by, most asking if I was okay.  I was bleeding pretty good at this point.

When I got my chain put back on, I hopped back on the bike.  Now reality was starting to set in.  "Should I even try to get back to the transition area?  I've got 10-11 miles yet.  Can I ride?  Is it safe?"  I decided at very least I needed to ride to the next corner where there'd be a volunteer.  My arm, shoulder and pinky finger really stung, especially those portions of my arm that were to sit down on the arm rests.  For the first half mile, I did this interesting little half aero stance....right arm in aero, left arm sort of hanging out like I'd broken my arm. 

I finally decided I'd be okay to bike in.  Other than it hurting to put my left arm down in the arm rests, everything else felt as good as it could.  I quickly picked up my speed, though a little gun shy, and started to pass the people who had gone by me.  By about 3 miles in (10 or so of the 17), I started to think about finishing the race.  Yes, my time wouldn't be reflective of my ability and my 'real' time, but at least I wouldn't have to DNF again.  Other than the fact I was bleeding a fair amount, I felt okay.  The only thing that concerned me was the impact of my hip on the pavement.  I knew, before I slid to a stop on the cement, that my hip had hit the ground very hard.  Certainly I knew it wasn't broken, but I wasn't sure the extent of the damage.  I literally debated myself the entire rest of the bike course.  Finally, cresting the final hill into T2, I decided I'd just make a game time decision once I got into the transition.

As I rounded the corner into T2, I could see Kathy's excited face.  She started cheering.  Unfortunately, she chose to stand on my left side and in less than 5 seconds, her face turned to complete horror.  I started hearing words come from her mouth that are very rare.  I knew right then that I couldn't finish - she wouldn't allow it even if I'd wanted.  I dismounted and walked my bike across the line.  I met her at the side of the transition - I thought she was going to break down right there.  All she kept saying is, "Oh my God, Erich."  I didn't have to tell her what had happened.  She asked me, "Are you going to run?"  I knew it wasn't really a question, though for just a second before I answered, I thought seriously about it.  I'd had plenty of time to ponder the question the past 30 minutes.

About all I could do was look at the ground, very disappointed and agitated with myself and say, "I don't think I'd better."  "Yeah, I don't think so either.  I can see how swollen your hip is."  I hadn't realized that yet, but did notice once my feet hit the ground off the bike that it was in rough shape.  There wasn't much more to say at that point - I carefully navigated those still racing as I racked my bike.  People kept looking at me, then got wide-eyed when they saw all the blood, as if they thought I might pass out right in front of them.  Many of them asked if I was okay - I guess the answer was dependent on how they meant it.

I was so disgusted with my lack of focus that the scrapes didn't hurt that bad initially.  Kathy ushered me over to the medical tent and the two girls working went from smiling to not smiling when they saw me.  I spent the next 20-30 minutes with them getting cleaned up and bandaged.  It wasn't the worst pain I've ever felt physically...but it gave me more time to reflect on my own carelessness.  That's probably what hurt the most.

We didn't spend much time at the race afterwards - I wasn't really in any mood to stay.  I packed up my stuff and we headed home.  I took a bath/showered (that was enjoyable) and got a second application of Neosporin/bandages. 

So I've had about 12 hours to think about the situation.  I've replayed the crash over and over in my head, thinking about what I could have done differently (other than not fall asleep at the wheel) and trying not to think "what if" in my head.  I also think about if I could have finished and if that would have been wise.  Seeing how swollen my hip is right now suggests I could have caused some major damage or at least lengthened my time of healing greatly had I run the final 4k.  Just the same, I hate not completing a race.  I know in my head it was probably best I called it a day, however.

Now the healing begins.  I'm not scheduled to race now until late June, so I have plenty of time to mend and get back into training.  I'm going to guess I'll wake up tomorrow morning recognizing fully the impact of my crash that I may not be feeling right now.  As Kathy said, it's kind of like a car crash.  Hopefully I can be doing some running by mid-week and who knows - maybe time trial on Thursday night?  We'll have to see how my body responds and if my hip is as bruised as I think it might be. 

I'm thankful in many ways - it could have been way worse.  I've seen guys break their clavicle, arm, shoulder, just about anything in a major crash.  I've witnessed some miserable crashes out there - some where guys do this kind of wild dance and lurch before they finally meet their fate.  In that respect, my wreck was rather graceful.  Overall, I wouldn't consider this to be a major crash and I was still able to get up, pull myself together and ride in (at a pretty dang good clip too).  My only regret is that I chose this race to do it in.  Gear West is one of the most competitive races of the year - a chance for me to really compare myself to some of the amazing athletes in the area.  On the flip side, I know that I'll have other opportunities and God willing, will be racing this event for many more years.  As I told Kathy on the way home, every race I learn a little more.  This was a (painful) learning experience but one that I'll carry with me as I go out the next time.  Hopefully the next time around, I'll stay a little further off the shoulder.....you know, closer to all the cars whizzing by.  J

Race on!