Broken

I always talk about how much seconds matter. In a race, just a few seconds can make the difference between reaching your goals (qualify for nationals, become pro or even just meet the personal standards you set) and falling short. In just seconds, everything can change.

While training out east this weekend, i had a pretty bad crash. I was riding a new bike on unfamiliar roads and probably going a bit too aggressively for the amount of sand and potholes that were around. I hit a pothole and skidded out moving at about 18 mph, I guess.

I'm a pretty good "tumbler" but this time I couldn't avoid a broken wrist -- probably caused by that enormous Garmin watch (DON'T WEAR A WATCH WHEN RIDING). It acted like a lever when I hit the ground and I don't think I would be sitting here in a cast if I had the watch mounted on the bike instead. If you look at the road rash up my left side and how in tact my hands are, you can tell I didn't try to break my fall.

If you see the bike, you'll be amazed. I seriously think I threw my body between it and the road (PROTECT THE QUEEN!!!). There's a small gash in the fork and one of the gear shifters snapped off the end of the right aerobar. A perfect little "SRAM" carbon nugget. A good samaritan stopped to help me. She told me to stay on the ground and leave the bike there so she could put me in her truck. Next thing she turns around and I'm standing in front of the hatchback with the bike slung over my good shoulder. It's funny the way we act when we're in shock.

Once inside the car, I just started bawling. Holding that beautiful little carbon fiber gem in my hand, I realized that every race I've been working toward, including the nationals in August, won't happen for me this year. The whole season is shot inside of a few seconds. It took some time to finally be thankful that I even had the ability to cry.

Luckily, the hospital wasn't far. Actually, it was as if I was heading to the ER and decided to crash on my way there. The nice lady "babysat" the bike for me while I waited for Rob to show up even though she clearly had somewhere to be. My parents came too, and I was glad to see them so calm. My mom and dad are awesome. Instead of using this to say it's a "wake up call" that I need to stop, they were saying how fast I'll bounce back and that I'll be out on the bike again before I know it. I'm so thankful for them. Also, it was great staying at their house that night. Who doesn't want mom when she's hurt, even at 35? I'm already thinking of setting up the bike trainer in their backyard so I can look at the water while I recover and rebuild.

It's easy to say this is it; "Jenn Place..out," and walk away thinking next time I may not be so lucky. The thought of getting back on the bike scares me right now, but I have to think that when I ride again, I'll be that much smarter and more experienced than I was before this happened. Sometimes lessons are learned the hard way. I also find it funny that this happened on July 4, the first day of the Tour de France. I mean, if Lance can come back from cancer, I can certainly handle this, right?