Yep, it's official. I am cursed from ever (OK, that's probably a bit drastic) running the Platte River Half Marathon. Three years ago it was a vicious case of salmonella poisoning that had me at a fever of 102 on race morning and telling Michael, no really, I think I'm OK. He was calling the doctor and put me right back to bed. This year? I swore off cookie dough and cake batter and anything that looked remotely undercooked. I had a great swim on Friday and couldn't wait to top off the weekend with a great run.
On Saturday morning, PIC and I decided to explore a new (to us) route for our long but easy ride. From the CC Rez we rode out Jordan Road and made our way through Parker and then found Matsenbacher (I'm sure horribly misspelled) Road. Since I was running the next day, PIC pulled the majority of the way, and we were having fun passing other riders and singing our cheesy 80s tunes out loud. Oh yeah, Journey, Foreigner, Queen, Styx. It.Was.Awesome. Until I did something I always do. I waved at a fellow rider, it was a casual fun ride....I always wave. As soon as I took my friggin' hand off the bars I hit the most massive bump (the size of a VW I believe) and went flying. I ended up in the middle of the road wondering how in the hell I got there. My mix1 was in the middle of the road. So was my bike. So was the power meter. WTF??? PIC is yelling at me to get out of the road and I am clearly confused plus my hip is killing me. And it was obvious that there would be no half marathon for me on Sunday. The guy I waved to even turned around to make sure I was alright.
To answer everyones questions:
1. He wasn't that cute. At all.
2. He waved first
3. Yes, I was on my TT bike
4. The bike is fine thank you very much and I did NOT hit my head
5. One tiny hole in my jersey
6. 5 colors on the bruise so far
7. The mix1 held up just fine
8. I didn't realize I had road rash until 1/2 hour later
9. Husband hid all sharp objects in the house when he knew I couldn't race
10. Hip not broken/fractured
OK, here it is 4 days later.....it's actually starting to look better!!! Plus I really don't think the picture does it justice. How many colors can you count?
We kept riding because we were in the middle of nowhere and it made sense to keep my hip moving and really, just to get back on the bike. If there is anything PIC and I have learned over the last couple of years is to get back on the bike as soon as possible if you crash (assuming the bike is ridable). And it did feel better after I rode. But as soon as I got off the bike? Yeah, pain. As in barely able to walk pain. Michael did the right thing, he gave me an ice pack, told me to lay down, and then hid all sharp objects (mentioned above). Then, he handed me a hard lemonade as I was in the shower screaming from the road rash. Who else can take care of me like that??? Thank you Michael!!!