Today was my first day back on my bike riding in the “real world,” as opposed to riding inside on the trainer, since my accident on July 3.  For a long time, I couldn’t ride without risking hurting my arm if I fell, but lately I’ve been putting off riding out of what I now understand was just pure fear.  An odd fear, not one that I was even conscious of, even if I kept finding reasons not to get back on my bike — too cold, too windy, too much to do, needed a new helmet, etc., etc.  Only when I got back on the bike and started down the hill did I recognize:  I was afraid.  I felt uncomfortable, unsure, wobbly, the tires seemed to narrow, the road passed under me too fast.  I kept saying to myself, ‘slow, just go slow, don’t fall.’

Right after it happened, it would replay over and over in my head: beginning the turn, suddenly becoming aware that I was not going to make it, drifting toward the stone wall while desperately trying to avoid it, then the sharp crash, a feeling of “ooof” as I struck the wall straight on, following by a consciousness of flying uncontrollably through the air with my bike, finally landing on my back, stunned and motionless, then hearing myself moaning, groaning, moaning, groaning, rocking from side to side like a baby, trying without success to lift my head, thinking to myself, ‘I have to move out of the road, I don’t want to get hit by a car,’ then looking up at a man and a woman, trying to sit up but still too stunned.

It took several minutes before I could sit up, and when I did I was automatically holding my left arm with my right, conscious that I had probably broken it.  I wasn’t so much in pain as I was in shock.  I didn’t have many cuts and scrapes, but I was aware on some primal level that I’d hurt myself badly.  The people who helped me tried to get me to stand up, but the first attempt did not work; I felt like I was going to be sick and had to sit back down on the pavement for several minutes before I could finally get up.  My whole body felt bruised.  I could barely lift myself into the back seat of the SUV that took me to the emergency room.  When I got out at the hospital, still holding my left arm, I felt woozy, unsteady.  I wondered if I could make it inside on my own.

I did, of course, but didn’t realize until later how seriously I’d broken my arm.  Not until a week and a half later did I discover I’d also broken a rib.  And the deep purple, almost brown bruises on my upper arm and side took many weeks to resolve.

So fear of getting back on the bike was, I guess, to be expected.  I had never had an accident so serious, and getting back on the bike, on  the road, I was right there again, in the same position, vulnerable.  To compensate, I took it slow and went on an easy short ride, on familiar roads, through a pretty, fresh, clear autumn afternoon.

Et voilà, quelques photos que j’ai prises sur la route….

Me and the bike:

Part of my route:

Grapevines in Autumn:

Finally, a cool technological thing:  I used the Google My Tracks application and the GPS on my new phone to create statistics and an xml file that works on Google Earth, Google Maps, or other mapping software.  Here’s the route shown on Google Maps:

As for the statistics, well, they were nothing great, except to note that even with my fear of this ride, I managed at some point to hit 26 miles per hour, and had a total elevation gain of 700 feet.  Not too shabby, I guess, for the first time in almost 5 months.

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Categories: Comments on Life

Tags: Cycling, Google Earth, GPS