Ouch!

I don't know if it was bad parenting or lousy bike etiquette, but today I went crashing down not once, but twice. I worked with Zach on how to ride in a group, how I would be right next to him when possible, and how to always be aware of other riders and cars. What I neglected to school him on was the logistics of my bike and me as a rider. I did not explain that I was attached to my bike.

***

I waited until most of the riders had gone ahead, as we were in the 9 mile grouping, and then I told him to ride slowly to the bend in the road leading to the flagpole. All was fine, until a) I said to slow down and move to the left and b) a tandem recumbent bike rolled passed us that caught all of his attention. In a split second, Zach was off his bike, standing cross-ways in front of me. I could crash into him or, well, there was no or for me. Before I could disengage my right shoe from the pedal, I was over on the ground. I shook it off and got back in line, explaining to Zach that he could not just jump off like that in front of me or anyone for that matter. I am still a novice, on the "tri-training bike" and well, I have slow reflexes.

Off we go then with the last of the riders, for the most part, up a hill that takes Zach eons to climb, and we move at a fair pace, although he is struggling to the rest stop. Zach looks at it as an oasis, comes to a dust raising halt, jumps off his bike, and forgets that I am right behind him. No warning this time. Down again!

First aid comes and patches me up as blood drenches my favorite sock. I take a lift back to the truck, kid-munching-on-cookie-and-beverage in tow. We spend some time at the craft show, watch a guy build a commemorative sand castle, then decide to head back to the hotel. I clean up as best as I can, fall asleep for 45 minutes, then head on back to das einfamilienhaus.

I learned some valuable lessons today. I need more saddle time. A friend of mine used to say that to me almost every day. He is right as he always was. I am one-with-the-bike once I get going, when I am on my own, but with a child, it is just different. The whole time I was distracted. If he lagged, I was circling or looking for him. If I heard a car, in my mind I saw him a bloody smear on the asphalt. I was thinking about him and not me or the bike or the road or the ride. I wonder when he is better if I will be less distracted and worried? Probably not.

I am going to ride tomorrow and every day until my next race of 62 miles. I am tired of being bruised and beaten up. A woman from Performance Bikes, whose name escapes me at the moment, says that she falls sometimes once a race (she had a bruise to prove it.) She said the scars are like medals. I am not so sure I feel that way, not yet, but I am out there doing it. I love cycling! LOVE it. And I think as long as I am giving it my best, regardless of what it is, then I am doing great.

With that in mind, I bought a giant bottle of peroxide and mammoth-sized bandages. I am ready.