What a mess this day was. My race this morning was fine, and my husband’s was fine too until the very end when he was involved in a big crash, and we ended up spending the afternoon in the emergency room. That was not the kind of drama we were looking for today! He’s fine, but with a cracked rib and a lot of scraped-off skin. He’s on some fancy painkiller they gave him at the hospital.
That’s the risk you take when you ride, I suppose, and especially when you race. The only crashes I’ve been involved in so far are ones I’ve accomplished all on my own — accidently riding off the road and tipping over, not being able to get out of my clipless pedals, that sort of clutzy thing. But one day I’ll be in a real crash, I’m sure.
I’ll keep riding, though, and I’m positive my husband will too. I’m not the sort of person who tries very hard to avoid risk. I’m no daredevil, but I think that, at least for me, a perfectly safe life isn’t the best kind of life to live.
I haven’t had a moment to read until now, so I will be off to my books soon.