When I crossed the finish line at the Tour De Tamarack this year in early September, I felt the yearly relief of making it through another season of road racing without any crashes.
Joke's on me, though, because I had a pretty intimate moment with pavement yesterday at the Cross My Heart and Hope to Die cyclocross race early in the first lap. After confirming that I did not break my hip (but confirming that I just put two holes in my fancy new knickers), I remounted and tried to salvage my race. That didn't work out so well. I had thought about quitting right there and then, but I figured it was bad form to quit the race put on by my team.
So now I finally know what road rash feels like. Great.
Today I rode for 60 miles, which was my longest ride in a really long time. It was great fun to just ride my bike again with some cool folks.
And I wish I had taken a photo of the milkshake, inside a styrofoam milkshake cup (with straw poking out of the top), that graced the bottle cage of Chris's road bike for the ride home.