ouch. I hate dirt.

August 29, 2010

It was really hot most of the week and I did go for an epic trail ride on Wednesday with Jennifer and friend. It was great to finally, after nearly a decade, to get to ride together. I hope we can go up to the redwoods or live my dream of horseback riding around Golden Gate Park one day soon.

It was hot, I had stuff to do, I didn’t exercise all week. Saturday morning I woke up determined to kick butt on my mountain bike up in the hills of Fremont Older Open Space Preserve. As usual I was trailing far, far behind peddling up the hill so I didn’t get to choose which direction we were going. The guys happened to take the Seven Springs Trail, which is the same trail we had rode the horses on Wednesday. I was feeling pretty good once I caught my breath at the top, and was feeling pretty confident in the dirt going downhill. Going downhill I am faster than Rob, so I was in front of him when we got to a switchback, going downhill, that had a lot of soft dirt.

As my bike began to slide, I reached out to the little guide rail for balance, only to have the bike continue to slip out from under me, and have my hand hyper-extend backwards at the wrist.

I’m pretty active and I actually bump myself up quite a bit. I bruise myself on boxes, fall off horses, drop bikes on myself, etc. This hurt more than anything I can remember, but I guess that’s the case with each new hurt. I can recall thinking OMG, my hand can’t bend that far back! Then it bent some more.

After writhing on the ground for a few moments, the endorphins kicked in and everything stopped hurting. My arm was not broken. I sent the guys ahead to enjoy the trail because I was pretty sure I could walk out faster than they could finish the trail. After walking for a bit, I decided to try riding (on firm, straight trails). They still beat me to the meeting point. *sigh* Always the slow-mo. Though if I’d taken the short cut as I’d planned, I would have made it back sooner.

Anyway, after ascertaining my arm could handle braking and some riding, I rode down the huge hill to the parking lot, once again jumping my bike over my favorite bump in the trail.

Ice, compression, elevation, and some prescription anti-inflammatory pills, and I don’t even have a bruise. There’s a few everyday motions that don’t feel good, but I seem to be fine. Maybe fine enough to get my behind to the yoga class I keep saying I’m going to go to next week. And go kick that trail’s buttocks.

By levanah