Thursday, July 13, 2006

It Ain't Avon Honey

I have 40 mins to ride, pump the rear tire and OFF, I’m gone.

I spend the first 15 mins riding wide open. I’m wearing that GPS/heart monitior, trying to give myself a heart attack or something...I’m like 155, cool....*rides a little faster*....OH! 170 Coooool.....*kicks it up a knotch, now flying over previously avoided rocky technical areas*....Oh, yeah 180..... LOL ~ what a kid eh? Well, the next part of the ride will make perfect sense, still not having laid a tire track on my frequently talked about "favourite trail" I justify that although I’ll have to ride home like a mad woman to make up the time (need to eat and shower, date arrives at 7:30). So. I go for it anyway and turn into the black earth of the trail of all trails and in my haste I cut it too close and nail one of the trees with my left handle bar which wrenches the whole deal far and to the left sending me aerial in the opposite direction.

What can only be described as a matrix moment for me that came to a crashing halt when my right shoulder blade made touch down. As my head was thrown back thwacking the ground with all the intensity required to properly ring your bell, I think, gosh helmets are a good idea, that would have REALLY hurt without one. Thoughts of concussion are swiftly swept from my mind and I quickly get up on my feet turn my stupid ass around and leave the trail immediately. As I rode home that day, covered in mud and the tell tale signs of my fall sketched across my white jersey I replay the thoughts I was having just prior to the incident, I roll around the limit/time pushing addictive nature I have and then peel home to share the story with the folks and my boy....Not to mention I’m sorta wanting someone to check my pupils....Something to save for my date perhaps. Broke my GPS device, must have hit the tree. That’s a drag.

Monday, July 10, 2006

If a pictures says a thousand words....This says it all....