France's Bag O'Tricks

So finding the motivation to actually write this post and give it the time needed for all the unnecessary emotion to pass has taken longer than I had anticipated, but at least things now are more positive and have a better outlook. 

As for last weekend's racing, I was really looking forward to racing hard since my form was coming along great and I was able to really start to give it some gas and I was ready to showcase this in our upcoming events. Unfortunately this country had other plans for me. 

We sign in, take our photos, say hello to the announcers and then it is all business. We need to get the legs opened up because we start with a KOM right out of the gate. Navigating the city streets is easier said than done in this light and especially in a French Cup race, there are people everywhere. 

Finishing my warm up, as I make the final turn back up to where the team car is, I see the rider in front of me swerve and then BAM!!! I am on the ground again! Laying there thinking WTF just happened. I look up and there is some guy with the deer in headlights look trying to apologize to me. Looks like I found a spectator and my bike made friends with him. As I tried to get up, I was in excruciating pain. My leg felt broken. I looked at my arm and my scar tissue from my brash with death had completely been split in half and was gushing blood. 

As I used my bike as a crutch to get back to the team car, I lost it emotionally.I completely broke. I just could not grasp why these things were happening to me. I had such good form and then this was being stripped from me. I broke into tears as I waited for the medic to come look at me. 

Being physically tough, I wanted to at least try and start the race. I rode up the hill to the start line and realized this was not possible. I could not get out of the saddle, and barely pedal in the saddle. Something was wrong, again. 

I spent the rest of the day in the car, upset. I figured out after getting out one time that, I was not going to be moving much, since it took me about five minutes to even get out of the car. 

Seeing the strain this put on me, when we made it home Albert flat out asked me if I wanted to pack up my bags and just go home. He was sharing my frustration. I knew I was not going to be racing Sunday. I tried to spin my legs out Sunday and it was pretty rough doing 70 watts and trying to block out the pain I felt. Racing Monday became out of the question.


Since Monday was a National Holiday, this meant I would have to wait until Tuesday to see a Doctor. Monday was by far the worst day pain wise that I had been in. I was convinced my pelvis or femur was fractured. Walking was almost impossible and any movements caused a stabbing pain. 


Thankfully I woke up Tuesday in far less pain, walked to the Doctor and found out that my joint and bursa were completely inflamed and I had also bruised my knee and ankle. Pretty much all things were damaged somewhat on that side. He gave me some prescriptions and noted that I should take 5-7 days off from any activity. 


In cyclist lingo this means four days. After one day of medications I was feeling quiet better! By Thursday I cleared myself for the weekend and figured if I was going to be racing I better go out and at least see if I could ride my bike. 


In the first five minutes things felt completely different. I was able to pedal, I was able to get out of the saddle. I was able to ride at some speed and force. Thankfully things were turning around. Friday was another day in progression, as I had to do some intervals to get the legs going for the weekend. I could feel things breaking down, but it was definite the weekend was not going to be easy because the openers were a little painful.

 On the bike I began to laugh, knowing that this whole time in this country, I have been like a "Bozo" blow up punching bag. This country is the little boy, waiting to smack "Bozo" as hard as he can, hoping he stays down. Well just like "Bozo" I keep bouncing up. I will take the licks, but I will keep coming back. Persistence will always pay off because if you give up, you will always wonder how close you were. So buck up, know that sometimes you have to take a proverbial "punch" then comeback stronger and smarter than before!