Crash

The weekend started out good. I got a good workout in on Friday night before meeting Steve for dinner. I did cardio and weights, and really pushed it on the machine that works the lats, the triangular shaped muscle in the back over the shoulder blade.

On Saturday, Steve and I met his friend Cris for mountain biking on a trail that the guys have done before. It's 5 miles out and 5 miles back and would definitely be classified as intermediate. The beginning was the toughest, with lots of challenging hills and dips. My asthma started acting up, and I was very frustrated that I couldn't catch my breath. I haven't had that happen since last July, and unfortunately, the inhaler I brought with me was expired.

We got almost to the end of the 5 mile trail when I needed a break. I rested and stretched while the guys went on ahead, promising to return in about 7 minutes. It was a lot longer than 7 minutes, but I was enjoying the view from the top of the hill. Steve came back with blood running down his calf. He had crashed, and his bike had dug into his leg, tearing a nasty gash in it. I cleaned it up with bottled water and tissues as best I could, and we headed back.

We had just gotten to the tough hills and dips when I realized my muscles were really tired. My legs were shaking with the effort, but I was determined to finish. The guys went down a steep hill and up the other side. I was going to walk it like I had done on the way out, but it looked like so much fun, I decided to try it.

I was using my rear brake as I'm supposed to, but I was still gaining too much speed. Then my bike hit either gravel or a protruding vine, and I went sailing over the top of the handlebars. I landed HARD on my left shoulder and left hip, my face pointed down into the ground. I learned you can really drag out Steve's name:
"Steeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeve!"

He was already running down the hill towards me. He untangled my right foot from my bike and helped gently turn me over. I really thought I might have broken my left upper arm (humerus), but I was able to move it. He said his first thoughts were how they were going to get me out of there, and he started thinking about calling a Medivac helicopter.

Fortunately, it wasn't that bad. I was able to walk out. I'm covered in bruises and scrapes and even have a slight black eye, but everything's still working. Steve had to get antibiotics and a tetanus shot for his injury, and we both took lots of ibuprofen the rest of the weekend. But all's well that ends well. I think our original plan of going to Houston for the weekend would have been less painful, though.