If you ride a bike one day will have a crash. I seem to come to grief about once every couple of years. Analysing my last 5 crashes I find that two have been caused by gravel when cornnering, one by a dog, one by a car failing to give way and one by a pedal failure. Three weeks ago I hit the deck after losing my rear wheel in a corner on little blue stones. I lost skin off my fingers, forearm and thigh. Not having time to put my hand down probably saved me an injured collarbone. Everything has healed except the thigh which has an ugly collection of fluid over an area the size of my hand. I count myself very lucky that I have not experienced any great pain and have been able to continue to ride since. Lucky too that I was on my training bike and not the more fragile carbon bike.
I rode the You Would Have to be Crazy 200k ride on Saturday from Lancefield to Bendigo and return and was pleased with a time slightly slower than last year but among my quicker rides over that distance.
Anyhow my injury was put in perspective when I met Steve at the finish of the ride. He had been hoping to do his first 600k ride but he too had had a crash. He came off somewhat worse than I did when he crashed a week ago.
Read about it at:
http://lancefieldlairs.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/just-what-i-thought-it-would-feel-like.html
Anyhow I think there is a message in all this spilt blood and general carnage. I think the bike jersey I am wearing in the picture below says it all.
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