The rolling hills/mountains were beautiful, and there is no doubt in my mind that I will end up back in CO one day. We rode on a fairly curvy, well trafficked road, but were still able to have lots of conversation throughout the day. At mile 16 I looked down at my odometer and couldn't believe that we had been riding that long (as in, it felt like we had only gone about 5 miles).
At mile 22ish, I realized many things:
1. I am not invincible.
2. Blake is freaking amazing.
3. Shoulders don't last forever.
4. I don't always know that I'm hurt until much later.
Scenario:
We had just rounded a corner on a fairly busy road and were going uphill at a moderate pace when the shoulder of the road kind of cut off into some mud. My front tire got caught in the mud, my bike fell away from the road, and I fell into the road. Several cars were coming around the corner and somehow Blake hopped off his bike and grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the road. The car behind us barely missed hitting my bike, which was further out of the road than my body had been before Blake pulled me to the grass. At the time, I was so confused about what had happened that I didn't really process it, but looking back it was a pretty scary situation (and I may have had several bad dreams about how that could have played out since then).
We had just rounded a corner on a fairly busy road and were going uphill at a moderate pace when the shoulder of the road kind of cut off into some mud. My front tire got caught in the mud, my bike fell away from the road, and I fell into the road. Several cars were coming around the corner and somehow Blake hopped off his bike and grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the road. The car behind us barely missed hitting my bike, which was further out of the road than my body had been before Blake pulled me to the grass. At the time, I was so confused about what had happened that I didn't really process it, but looking back it was a pretty scary situation (and I may have had several bad dreams about how that could have played out since then).
We hung out on the side of the road to clean my bloody knee off, and then looked to fix my chain and brake on my bike. After fixing the chain, I reached down to grab my brake and saw that my had was covered in blood as well. I really hadn't noticed any pain and couldn't find the cut until we doused my hand in water. Apparently, somewhere in the fall I had sliced part of the tip of my middle finger. Luckily, Blake carries the essentials (toilet paper and hockey tape) with him. We covered it up and headed on to lunch where I would yell and be an overall child about cleaning it with alcohol (kind of a necessity as it was covered in dirt and chain grease).
After lunch, Blake and I had only gone about 2.5 miles up a hill when a new pain set in. While I've gotten kind of used to riding with a bum right leg, my left leg had yet to quit on me. Something must have happened in the fall, because a shooting pain went down the front of my knee through my shin with each pedal stroke. (It's gotten a tad better since then, but it felt like I was getting shot every few seconds). Blake convinced me to stop pushing it too far, and I had to van...again. I may have thrown my helmet out of anger. I was pumped about a good day for my right leg, and then this random fall happened and messed with me even more.
Dan picked me up and we sang along with a really bad CD in the van. We got to Steamboat, I got my bike checked out and went to mass. Then everyone ventured to explore. As great as donated fast food is, Dan and I have both been dreaming of steak or real food for a bit, so we ventured into the real world and had a real world night of good food, drinks, and chillin by the river. We even saw some surprise fireworks!
Free day tomorrow. Resttttttt.
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