The week sucked. Tom's grandmother passed away, which was hard on all of us; but especially Tom obviously. He decided he wanted to come with on Friday evening, make a mini trip out of it, race Saturday, come home, and then he & Christopher would go to a birthday party on Sunday & I would race.
We got to the race on Friday night about 15 minutes before my race. I warmed up on the course & actually had a really good race. It was basically turn,turn, turn, flyover, turn, turn, turn in dark spot & try not to fall in the pond & repeat. I was third. I won $. Woo hoo!
Saturday was the opposite. I had a hard time sleeping, the girls that normally babysit weren't there, etc. Scott Sanda agreed to keep an eye on Christopher while he course marshalled but I was a little afraid Christopher might be in demon mode & run out on the course. I pulled myself out of the 30+ race.
For the W123 race, my legs felt like lead going over the barrier and I was struggling. But, it looked like Becky was struggling too. I went through the area they tried to make berms and was trying to catch Becky when BAM. My front wheel must have hit the berm wrong. I got up, finally got my chain back on & started again. My right hand started hurting, which lead to the interesting stairs technique above and soon lead to my riding most of the course with only one hand.
The best guess of an EMT was that it wasn't broken but get an x-ray. Tom had to help with tear down so we stuck around. We got home kind of late. Tom didn't think the primary care center did x-rays & I figured I'd rather not spend the entire Saturday night in the ER, so I just went to bed. It didn't hurt too bad so I figured it was probably not broke & I'd try to race on Sunday.
Not my best move. It didn't help when I hit a plastic pole and then one of the guys in the 50+ or 60+ decided to ride over me. He kind of got stuck on top of me, but instead of getting off, pushed his way over me leaving some nice chain ring marks on my back. Totally not cool.
Rob Curtis helped me get my bikes to and in the car, which was not easy after his crash on Saturday, and Leah was nice enough to fetch my bottle from the start line.
I showered and then Tom dropped me off at the primary care center on the way to the party. When they told me it was broke, I wanted to cry and then go on a drinking binge. Instead, I walked over to the bowling alley, getting there as the part was winding up.
However, I saw the ortho yesterday afternoon & NO CAST! I have a splint and can't race for six weeks. I can run and he told me I could ride on the trainer. Man, I hate the trainer. But, I guess I have a good six-week training block to be back in shape for the end of CX season. = )
I'll have my bling, light & awesome PSIMET wheels by then. I'm hoping to finally have my new Crux frame by then as well.
Jingle CX is pretty much exactly six weeks from when I broke it. I wrote an article years ago about a woman's research that cats' purring could help mend broken bones (along with quotes from some experts saying nicely that she was off her rocker). I think I'll have to go cuddle with Freedy a lot more in the upcoming weeks, just in case. = )