I choose the title as "The Accident" because I am fortunate that I haven't had a lot of accidents and certainly not any that have lots of details or inflict facial reactions on those that hear about it. Here's the story...
Ricky and I have been training for the Marine Corps Marathon for a couple of months. The training was going well until I ran on some uneven terrain, causing the sides of my feet to be sore from all the switch-backs. On Tuesday, September 25th, Ricky and I were going to do our daily workout. Since my foot was still bothering me I decided that I would cycle instead of run. In order for us both to get a workout in and more importantly for me not to be scared out of my mind of the crazy NOVA drivers, we headed to Mason Neck Park. This park is extremely quiet and is 3.5 miles in length. Ricky and I usually ride up and back 3 or 4 times for a 21-28 mile ride. Its a beautiful park that is paved and twists and turns through the forest. On this day I rode while Ricky took Grant running in the BOB jogging stroller through some other trails.
I had a great ride of maintaining an average of 19mph pace over the course of 23 miles. I had only a mile or so to go before I would meet Ricky and Grant back at the car in the parking lot. I was going about 20mph when I saw a stick in the road. It wasn't a huge stick, probably a foot long and an inch or more in diameter, but it was larger than many of the other sticks I had passed that day. I moved to the left of the stick to go around it and B-B-B-B-B-A-A-A-M! The stick catapulted into my spokes causing me to stop dead in my tracks.
The next thing I knew I was on the ground, spitting blood and pieces of asphalt out of my mouth. I instantly felt that I was missing my front tooth. Other than the amount of blood pouring from my face, I wasn't in any pain. Another cyclist rode up to me and told me not to get up and that he would get help. I had to unclip myself from the bike however, because I was still clipped into the petals. As he was talking to me and approaching to stop, he too fell off his bike-still clipped in. The only difference was, he was going about 3mph not 20! He stopped a car and told them to drive to the ranger station and he got back on his bike to go find Ricky in the parking lot. After about 3 minutes of just being so angry that this happened, I realized that I could call Ricky, and so I did. I told him that he needed to come and get me because I fell off my bike. I told him that the bike was fine but that I had lost a tooth.
Ricky and the Park Ranger arrived at the same time. Unfortunately the Ranger Station was less than prepared. He brought his first aid kit which probably hadn't been used in 10 years. All of the wet wipes were dried up, the box was dusty and the worst part is that he had no access to ice. We decided at this rate, it was best to have Ricky drive me to the ER. The closest hospital was south on 95 which meant TRAFFIC. AWESOME.
The trip took us about 40 minutes because the GPS misled Ricky and traffic was horrendous as expected. I shivered but stayed silent all the way there, Ricky was sweating after finishing a 7 mile run, and Grant was screaming because it was feeding time, so overall I would rate that trip as a D- on the fun scale.
We get to the ER and since it was 6pm, of course there was a line out the door. I am sitting in the wheel chair, the car is still at the entrance and Grant is still crying as Ricky is holding the car seat in his arm. After about 15minutes its finally my turn and Ricky takes care of everything including asking for ice and warm blankets for me. When I finally get called back, Ricky has calmed down Grant, given him a bottle and been total support for me. The nurses and doctor were great and 4 hours later they send me home with a broken wrist, 8 stitches in my face and road rash (still with fibers from my shirt and the road) on my arm and lots of dressings to take care of it all.
I definitely was a night I'll never forget. We are keeping the helmet and the stick which has spoke groove in it for a teachable moment for Grant. Had I not been wearing my helmet, it could have been a million times worse. I have about 6 weeks of recovery and then I should be back to normal. Well normal is a relative term, but you get the idea.