It felt like slow motion but happened all too fast: the rear tire sliding out on loose gravel, the bike falling over, an instinctive effort to pull out of my clipless pedals. Then came the sickening pull and snap that I knew was a serious injury before even coming to a stop on the gravel-littered roadway.
And just like that, a cycling season comes to an end. One race in, a winter's worth of stationary training and a summer of anticipation was gone in an instant during the very last minute of a routine training ride.
That's what life throws at you now and then.
Injuries happen, and mine -- a complicated leg break at the ankle, requiring a three-hour surgery, 15 screws and three metal plates -- is one of many. For me, it is life-changing and could have long-term implications, including the end of my running days or early onset arthritis. I hope not -- I have a great surgeon who I trust completely -- but it's my new reality.
Turns out, I'm not alone with these injuries. While Robbie, the cast technician at my orthopedic surgeon's office, wrapped my newer, lighter cast this week, he told me he does up to 250 casts a month in that office alone. Dr. Mills, my surgeon, said he sees three or four injuries like mine a year.
It boggled my mind to think about that many people hobbling around Anchorage, limbs stiff and the freedom to enjoy our summer so limited. Do we really break bones that easily? Are there really that many of us out there?
Then, just a week after my accident, another competitive cyclist in the Anchorage racing scene took an even harder spill than mine, requiring surgery that knocked him out of the season too. Like me, he faces a long road to recovery, physical therapy and the reality of a summer lost. We're just two of many, I suppose.
I could complain about the state of Anchorage's roads and the dangerous gravel that makes cycling a ride-at-your-own risk endeavor. Even the wide, made-for-cyclists roads, such as the new Elmore extension, are a bumpy, treacherous obstacle course that surely is a deterrent to cyclists. Who knows when they'll be swept? Soon, I hope.
I could also second-guess whether I should have stayed in my pedals and let myself land hard where I may. In high-speed accidents one doesn't have enough time to even consider such a thing, but would the injuries have been worse? It's not worth agonizing over.
If anything, the last two weeks have taught me to appreciate the outdoors in ways I'd never stood still long enough for before. I'll never take for granted the simple ability to take an afternoon hike on a whim, the easy action of hopping on a bike to cruise around the neighborhood with the kids, the simple pleasure of lacing up the Mizunos for a long run on a quiet road.
Forget races, training and pushing oneself to the limits: Sometimes, all one needs to enjoy the outdoors is nice sunshine and good friends.
After a week of highs and lows, going from the depressing realization that my summer was not going to go as planned to perking up when the sunshine came out and reminded me that Alaska can be overwhelmingly beautiful, I decided that this is just one of many challenges we face during our lives.
While I was in the hospital recuperating, my 8-year-old daughter wrote me a book titled "Girls Rule, Especially My Mom." Here's an excerpt:
"My mom loves to bike. I do, too. We both do. But we always wear our helmets. But my mom rules. She never gives up!"
In her simple, second-grader's rationale, she taught me an important lesson that stopped my pity party right in its tracks. My version of the outdoors might not include hiking Chilkoot Pass as was planned, but I'll definitely conquer the Eagle River Nature trails. I may not backpack Resurrection Pass, but you can bet I'll be at the Eklutna Lake campground, at the handicap-accessible site. And I might not pedal a bike all summer, but I've already mastered the wheelchair.
There's a summer to be enjoyed, and I want to do my daughter proud and not give up.
Outdoors freelance writer Melissa DeVaughn and her blog "Deadlines and Stopwatches" can be reached at www.melissadevaughn.com.
Melissa Devaughn
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