Friday, August 22, 2014

The SilverRush 50: The Golden Ticket

The gun went off and because the bullet didn't hit me I did what everyone else did and started the race. Oh my gosh, what have I done was my first thought as I started lumbering up the steep incline. I had even talked some of my coworkers into doing it. "It's so much fun! Way better than the 100! It's only 50 miles." Yah... about that.
This is what we're working with...

Last year when I was training for 100 miles, 50 miles seemed like another training ride. When all you have is a 50 miler it's a different story. While I had raced the course before it still felt foreign most of the time. The rain the day before had saturated into the ground making spots more difficult and on the initial climb up on the first 10 miles there was still quiet a bit of water running down. It rendered the course more difficult than before as the single line to take was forming a small river going down. It wasn't terrible when riding, but with it being muddy and slicky, towards the top many were walking on the bank of the road to avoid getting their shoes dirty. I didn't try to be a hero in any sense and got off and found my place in the line.

I was elated when we reached the 10 mile mark and made the turn to begin the descent into the first aid station at mile 13. I didn't stop at the aid station, because I didn't last year (and nothing ever changes) and it seemed like vulchers with everyone else pillaging. Muh, I have food and I'm still okay on water were my thoughts. The next descent is into what I used to think was the enchanted forest, because how I remember it is you descend, climb a little bit and then descend into the half way point. Not even close in my mind I took about 14 miles out of the course and found it to be a much longer path to the half way point. This was not the case as I realized we were far from half way and the trudge brought more hiking and more misery. I descended only to begin climbing again, which last year I thought was "the best!" and this year I thought I may have hit my head harder than I thought if this is what my definition of fun was. 

The forest opens up as you begin your last climb before the halfway point. I was not happy to see it. At this point the leaders had already passed me heading back in and seeing the little ants marching up the hill side only made my heart sink.  I begrudgingly shuffled on.

Getting to the turn around point wasn't bad, except that the whole way I knew I was going to have to ride it again, except going up. After the turn around point the pitch back up was ruthless. Not only do I hate to hike but I hate it even more when I'm having to push my bike up a steep grade. My legs ached and I still wasn't sure how I thought that this was fun. At all.
The well seemed pretty shallow

Making it to the last aid station was a relief and at this point only having a gel and banana I pulled over to load up and became one of the vulchers I had noted earlier. Only 13 miles left, I can do this. I checked my time, I hadn't quiet remembered where I was at time wise this time last year but definitely was not set to hit my mark. The three miles up to the turn off to begin the descent seemed a lot longer going up than it did going down. I was still on the climb up when my time reached 5:55 (the time I had finished in last year). I almost starting crying, almost. This is awful, absolutely dreadful. I should just stop but the only way to get back was to descend back into town on the trail, and that's what I did.

The descent wasn't exactly all descending and with about 6 miles left I saw a guy pulled over who had passed me early and stated "do it for the beer at the finish". I asked him if he was needed anything and he said he was cramping. I told him I had some gatorade he could have. He thanked me and apologized for keeping me. I told him it didn't matter as I was already 45 minutes off my PR. Snarky, yes, but that's where I was at. I even contemplated just pulling off to my car before getting to the finish line because I thought maybe a DNF would be better than what my time was going to be.
The race summed up in one photo

I didn't do that, I finished. I wasn't elated to finish like I had thought I would be. But was certainly appreciative that it was done and I had survived. I found the two coworkers I had roped into it, they looked about as defeated as I did, which made me feel better. I somehow ended up fourth in my age group with only a 25 minute difference between me and first place. I hung around for the awards ceremony because one of the people I talked into doing it ended up getting first in my age group. She got the ticket to Leadville (sidenote: totally rocked it this year). There was another spot up for grabs in our age group, but getting 4th didn't exactly have me holding my breathe for it. The 2nd place girl had already won her place into Leadville and declined it. The third place girl hadn't shown up to the awards ceremony. When they called my name for the golden coin to seal my spot into Leadville, I surprised myself with how excited I was to think about going back. I ran up and snatched it so fast there would be no mistake that I wanted it.

That means I'll be going back to Leadville. After I grabbed the coin and signed my name my next thought was, "my parents aren't going to be too happy about this." The nice thing that happens with the coin is that they give you the option of signing up for this year or next year. With how my training has been going and how I've been feeling I knew that there was no way I wanted to do it this year. Which means I'm in for 2015. 

I certainly haven't thought too much about training going forward or really riding my bike too much. I spent the weekend of Leadville this year hanging out with this bunch at my family's cabin. It was a much needed break and now it's on to the next adventure. Cyclocross.



Saturday, July 12, 2014

All the Marbles

 Do you ever have it that your past self does something that your future self is really grateful for? Did you follow that? 





The other night I was stressing about the SilverRush 50 (which is probably happening as you're reading this-positive energy would be appreciated). I was talking to Sully, more whining really (I'm really lucky to have him, I know this) I had gone to the endocrinologist and he didn't think that anything was precipitating from my whacked out hormone, at least it wasn't correlating to the symptoms I was complaining of. He didn't see the need to go on medication for it (I didn't either,
messing with hormones is messy) but it put me back to mostly square one. His best guess is that I'm anemic for what my body is used to for various reasons, or potentially sleep-apnea, or my diet. Really I joked with him that is prescription was to buy a cast-iron and call him in the morning? He laughed and then seriously suggested that and iron supplements. Which does nothing for the race that is happening now. 





Anyways I was stressing to Sully because my mileage hasn't been where it should be and when I was training for the 100 most of my rides were 50+ anyway so I didn't think about it. I came into this season with the thought that I want to beat my time but as things developed and my training didn't I don't want to get too high of hopes. But still sometimes it's just really hard not to grumble about what could have been. I was going through my list of everything, well I got 2nd last year and what if I don't even finish this year, what if I get a mechanical, what if I bonk, what if I can't breath up at that altitude. That's mostly where he cut me off. "Uh, you do realize you rode 30 miles up in Leadville last week and you didn't have an issue." Ohhh, that's right, I did! In a moment of really showing my brain injury I had
Narnia is behind here.
forgotten about that ride. I had planned to see how my breathing handled being at altitude and to ride with a friend who lives in Leadville. She moved up there to train for ultra running (badass) and I know her through friends but she also bikes which is better for me since I don't think I could keep her pace for a mile. I figured I would head up early and do some riding and then meet her later and do some more. I didn't feel the need to ride the 50 course because I don't really know it so drove to a spot on the 100 that I'm more familiar with. But then I remember Wayne and Alex talking about how cool the Colorado Trail is around Leadville and remembered a turn off that I could loop into part of the course. I settled on that and began. I think every ride in Colorado starts with a climb but it was singletrack and not terribly technical, where it's not even fun. I rode that for a good portion until I came to a trail junction where I jumped off the CT and back onto the course section that took me up miles 45-50(ish) or the Columbine Climb. I climbed up there but when I started descending about halfway down linked it back up with the CT trail. The only way to convey to you how much fun I had on that trail is to tell you when I was done I called Sully and asked if we could move up to Leadville. I think he just needs the idea to sink in a little more....





I finished with that ride and had just enough time to eat before meeting my friend. The trail system up here is unreal. She took me on a loop that we left riding from her house, maybe a 10 minute spin up if that, and then all of a sudden you are on this unmarked trail system that loops and swoops and has some (2) pretty sketchy exposures. I was in awe the entire time that it's just out her back door. She used to live in Boulder so she knows how picky they are there about the trails and which ones bikers are allowed on and what not and she told me in Leadville people don't really like rules. 





All race ready



Long story short (I know I'm really good at that) is this: The SilverRush 50 is going to be what it is, whether that's beating my time, making the cut off, or getting a DNF. As much as I'm aware of my body I still feel like I'm in a foreign place with it sometimes and I'm not really sure what's going to happen. But if nothing else it will be lessons for next year...

Thursday, June 26, 2014

It's Not A Tumor

Sully can impersonate this pretty well.
I haven't been feeling like myself lately. And when I say lately I mean the past 10 months. I haven't been wanting to post until I figured out what it was because it seemed like we were close but since ruling out a brain tumor we're back to square one.

Look at that healthy brain!
Initially I thought I was just recovering from Leadville, and then things at worked changed and then I was studying for the GRE and then I was taking the GRE and then I was moving and then I was switching jobs and then I was starting to up my training and then I was trying to race and then I knew something was off. Not terribly off  just not right, but off enough. I saw a doctor who chalked it up to just "paying the price of being on birth control" when I mentioned that might part of
the issue. Yah, uhh okay. I went and saw my doctor, the one who navigated everything with my brain injury and told her everything. She ran all the tests she could and then some. I apparently have an abnormally high amount of a hormone that can lead to issues later on and cause some problems now (biggest one, fatigue) the number one cause for most is a tumor pushing on the pituitary gland. I had to get a Brain MRI to rule out a tumor, which I did and then they did. Which puts up back to mostly square one and off to see an endocrinologist.

Not that it's really super significant to write about my medical life but a little because well mostly it has been impacting my riding. As a result I seem to end up more on my Remedy or my single speed cross bike because well it's a little depressing to get on my race bike and feel like I'm out for a Sunday stroll. I feel like I'm missing that next gear, to kick it in and go.

My current nemesis
It hasn't been awful, there are certainly more dreadful things I could be facing. I've gotten a little better at riding my Green Machine (remedy) and have found a new focus after Leadville. There is a technical trail outside of town that has a technical rock section. I can occasionally clear the whole section going down (except a left turn off a rock at the top, I can't turn left!) if I haven't bonked or started crying. But there is a huge rock that I cannot get up. I like riding with Sully I do, I really do, he has lots of skills so he can pick a line and go and he makes it, with flat pedals or clipped in. I on the other hand have been working and reworking lines to try and muscle up all my strength to get up and over. The past two times were actually progress. Our last time Sully and I must have spent good 15 minutes of the ride up on this one particular section. We talked lines and I tried different routes when finally the stars aligned and I was able to ride up onto the rock slab take the line that sent me onto a little rock that made the lift to the big rock shorter than other places. That's all I did was get my front wheel on the big rock and without much more momentum to carry me I stopped. It was a step though, and the building block I need to keep going with it.

Since then I have ridden it by myself only to rework and reride the line multiple times only lifting my front wheel onto the larger rock but never having that kick to really get up. But it's progress. As as result I haven't thought much of the other sections and when I conquer this I will be like a kid who only has once magic trick and when asked to see more try to convience the person that the one I have is so amazing I don't need anything else. I'll cross that bridge at some point though.
And occasionally this still happens....

I turn 25 this weekend, which I'm not super stoked on. Mainly because it only means one more year on my parent's health insurance. I also have the Firecracker 50 and SilverRush 50 coming up in the next three weeks. I was hoping to do the Firecracker as a team (each person does one 25 mile lap) but haven't locked down a partner and I'm don't feel super confident on my long distance riding abilities right now to really try to track down a teammate when I might completely bonk. If your interested though, let me know. One requirement: no expectations.  Even the SilverRush is up in the air at this point.

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Hey! Remember Me?!?

I know it's been a while since I've posted. And it's not that I haven't been doing things, I just haven't been writing. Instead of boring you with an absurdly long post that catches you up here it is in mostly pictures.

After the Whiskey 50 I spent some time on my bike and some time off of it.
Wayne and I went to Omaha for Frank's law school graduation.
This is how the trip started out, until my car broke down with a bad pulley on the serpentine belt....Luckily the car dealer we took it to conveniently rented cars. Which immediately axed Wayne's idea of hitch hiking and instead we got to roll into Omaha in style.
 
The Silver Bullet
We made it to his hooding ceremony just in time for them to start the "M" last names. But considering we changed in the/outside the car I think we cleaned up pretty well.

Then we got to see him graduate!

After that it was back to Boulder and more riding. Sully and I did Buffalo Creek on a day off. It ended up being an amazingly good loop.
  At least until the rain hit, and hit it did, immediately filling every crease on the trail with water. We scampered to put on our rain jackets and simultaneously saw lightning strike about 200 yards away while the thunder clapped overhead. As if worrying about getting struck by lightning wasn't bad enough as we were descending the rain changed to tiny hail pellets. It felt like the sticks of 100 needles and I soon straightened my legs to try and give them some protection. It was a fruitless effort, by the time we reached the car it looked like I had been infected with chicken pox again.
 
Don't worry it was still there the next day too. 


I did the Beti Bike Bash, I felt I should. It's a women's only race/event and our shop was a sponsor. Given that I was the only girl in all three shops I felt that I should be representing. I wasn't sure how it was going to go as 1.)  I had been dry heaving/coughing up mucus for the past week and 2.) I also wasn't quiet sure how to race 12 miles (I've only ever done 20 minutes short track or 50 miles plus races).
 I surprised myself by getting the hole shot  
(probably because I forgot that it was longer than 20 minutes and started sprinting)
only choking on my mucus once and then throwing it up (pretty impressive I can stay up right on a bike for that, huh) 
 and even ended up getting on the podium. Don't worry, there were more than 3 people in the category. 

Barb even came down for it and crushed it in her category as well and then hung around to cheer for me!
Barb and I after the race!


I did some cross rides, some technical rides, some long rides, some that took me on the steepest paved road in Colorado with grades close to 25% and some leisurely rides. 
#enduro

That's really the short and sweet version of it. More to come and in more of a timely fashion.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

DNF: Dumb Numb Fingers

"I got room for one more!" I heard a man shout. "Me! I'll go, please sir!" I frantically began searching for my bike. He must have realized what I was looking for and said "I can take you but not your bike." Survival instincts kicked in and the next thing I knew I was clamoring into a truck and being whisked away. While my bike laid forsaken at mile 13.7 of the Whiskey 50.
 
This is how I thought most of the day would go

That morning had started like any other race morning, oatmeal, coffee, debating what to wear and a weather report. When Sully saw the report he said, "well at least it will be an epic ride." A spoof on the company who runs the race, Epic Rides. The weather called for temperatures in the low 40s, with high winds and precipitation. Guess I'm wearing knickers. The precipitation called for .02 inches of rain. Okay, it'll just be the high wind that we'll have to deal with. We gathered all our gear and as we stepped outside realized we'd be getting more than .02 inches, as it was already raining and the ground seemed pretty saturated. Great, but still the rain isn't awful, or a deal breaker. As Barb says, "It's a pleasure to ride in the rain." Mainly because in South Dakota we didn't have to deal with it a whole lot. It wasn't suppose to get terribly cold, sure the descents might be a little cold, but I had a base layer, jersey, arm warmers and a jacket so I thought I could hang. 

Right before the gun went off a guy came by handing out Nitrile Gloves, which I immediately pounced on to go over my gloves. The rain had picked up but once we started moving it wasn't
Sully taking off
terrible. Okay, I can do this. It was about 4 miles on the road, which Sully passed me on. At first I thought it was some jerk trying to squeeze by me but when I heard his distinctive voice checking in on me, all my tension to run this uy off the road went away. I told him I was fine and he kept going. I was fine, but was starting to get a little cold, the rain hadn't let up and we were beginning the climb up onto double track. Followed soon by single track. The single track had a lot of stop and go traffic, which meant slowing my pace and even sometimes getting off the bike to wait. My hands kept getting colder, I remembered once to drink something but that was about the only time I could muster it. I kept trudging along, higher into the climb and further from any chance of warmth. I saw a lot of people just stop and start hiking down the hill, but knew I would be in no condition to make it back on my own so kept going. My hands were getting the worst of it now, I was trying to muster all the courage I had to remain positive. This will be over soon, your hands will get better, keep moving your fingers, keep moving. I saw a group of people cheering on the side as I came by. "How...how far until the next aid station?" My voice cracked. "Six miles, do you need something?" I somberly said, "No." 


At this point I couldn't feel my fingers any more as the rain had quickly changed to sleet and then hail and then finally snow. With every foot of climbing it seemed to get colder. I was mostly protected by the trees and shrubbery but at the top of the climb the ridge open up and the wind reared its ugly head sending snow everywhere and sending shivers
Taken from the Daily Courier in Prescott, AZ
down my spine. I wanted to turn around so bad, but heeded the advice of my Godfather, "how will this look on the accident report?" something he always reminds me. I figured not too good. "Girl racing Whiskey 50 gets so cold wanders off into the forest. Found 7 hours later. Loses 4 toes and a finger to frostbite." I know a random number of digits but it happened to a girl I went to college with. It was mainly the fact that I wouldn't be able to wear flip flops with 4 toes missing that kept me going. 


I couldn't shift, or had stopped trying but was stuck in a relatively easy gear so it wasn't the worst thing. Braking was a bit more questionable as I could but had to constantly check that my fingers were engaging with the levers. My fingers would slide off and I wouldn't realize it at all until I started rapidly accelerating downhill (not great). 

After the exposure on the ridge what should have been a fairly quickly descent turned into agonizing pain. My whole body was shaking, trying mercifully to get any heat. I soon saw a make-shift tent in the distance which gave me an ounce of hope, just make it there. I did but it didn't seem to warrant an actual stop, trudging by I heard someone say, "aid station is about 2 miles down, they are halting the race there." Halting the race? How does that work? Has Sully been waiting for me there?  Two miles, that's all I had to make it. 

More descending followed by more not braking. I had one foot out all the time now to drag just in case. I got off my bike to walk a section as it didn't seem like the best idea to go down a bunch of rocks with limited braking ability. It flowed into a turn which had enough area that I put my bike down to try and get any heat back to my hands. Three guys must have realized what shape I was in and parked their bikes and huddled around me to give me warmth. "Move your shoulders, get the blood flowing back to your hands. They continued making small talk but I was more focused on getting blood back to my fingers that I'm not sure what else they said. I started making my way down the hill
Like Hot Tea, a shower and dry clothes :D
behind them. They were soon far in front of me. I couldn't get there fast enough but I was too cold to care. Around a bend and down I could see a group of people huddling together. It felt like Christmas morning- Oh, I'm so close!! I made it to the bottom where I could see people were huddling around a fire pit. I dropped my bike and tears starting welling in my eyes as I was so relieved to be there. People parted as I walked up allowing me to get close to the fire. I started to try and take off my gloves and by that I mean hold them out in front of me and look at them while contemplating how to move my fingers. A man standing next to me must have realized my struggle and pulled both pairs off for me so I could get the warmth directly to them. "It's going to hurt." He was right, as the blood started flowing back the agony of pain was cumbersome. After a few minutes I started to wander out, searching for anyone who could give me information on the race, if it was halted, or they were re-routing us. That's when the man yelled he had room in his truck. 


It was my first DNF, around mile 7 I knew it would be. It was hard for my ego to swallow initially, as I once ran a marathon with no training to avoid a DNF. I knew how stupid it would be for me to continue and at the pace I had been going was nowhere on track to finish close to where I wanted to. I had been out there for 2+ hours taking in no food or water, once my hands were frozen it was game over. I was able to get back to the start and put dry clothes on which helped but it was about 4 hours before my hands felt relatively normal again*. Sully finished the race on his singlespeed because he's pretty incredible.
 
I didn't beat Sully like I had hoped but I'll be back with a vengeance!

It certainly wasn't the finish or race that I was expecting. But it's hard to be upset at the way it ended because it wasn't with a traumatic brain injury so I can cheer to that. 
I'll drink to no TBI
 *In case you were worried I was able to find my bike with relatively easiness. I'm sure the race company wasn't expecting that weather to happen as well but they did a great job of getting people off the course and taking care of them.

 

Friday, April 25, 2014

Meet The Parents

 I have trust issues, and it's not from finding fake snakes in my bed when I was a child. After I took a tumble off my Rocky I took it in to have it looked at. The stem and headset were loose which may or may not have contributed to me eating dirt the other day. I trust all them mechanics who work on it and one mentioned the bearings could have settled which caused the headset to go loose. It's been touch and go and I'm much more cautious on it now. With the Whiskey 50 this Saturday it's not the best predicament to be in. 
 
I know, the best.
Oh heyyyy!
I took a break from that bike this past weekend when I went up to my parents in South Dakota and brought my road bike. The first day I was there I headed up north to meet some friends but figured I would work some riding into it. I stopped by a shop to see where decent riding was as I wasn't familiar with that area on bike. They told me about a hill climb that starts right away and seemed to have gone on for miles. They weren't kidding when they said it started right away. Unfortunately it didn't last as long as I thought, 14 minutes, but I did stop by Dinosaur Park, made a couple of laps up and down and called it good. 
 
The next day I headed out on one of my go to rides. Unfortunately it's calving season for the
He's just a little guy!!
buffalo which means my mom is extra nervous. "If you see a baby on one side and the herd on the other, turn around don't try to mess with them." Okay, okay and gave her an estimate of when I would be back, but tacked on an extra half-hour for good measure. I lust for this route when I'm in Boulder with having to navigate traffic and never really feeling that far away (which is probably why I'm drawn to mountain biking more). Every time I ride up there though I can't help but yearn for trails outside of my parent's back door (maybe not that close). Especially when I'm wrestling with the internal dilemnia of riding vs. walking over all the cattle guards. Walking across possesses its own risks, my shoe falling off the ever so thin rail and jamming my leg down (a fear since I was a child), however riding can be impossible as well, if you don't carry enough speed through, the spaces are just far enough apart that I usually ride off feeling like a shaken baby. The ride finished with ample amount of climbing and me clamoring into the back of my sister's jeep as she came and got me when I finally lost the battle with the wind and didn't feel like getting gusted around like a Raggedy Ann Doll. 
 
And I got to see my favorite dog!

I probably should have been on my mountain bike, but figured if I was up there I would end up mostly on a road or gravel so it would have been a frivolous and frustrating undertaking. It was good to get some miles in while I was there because Sully and I are doing the Whiskey 50 this Saturday(!!!) in Prescott, AZ. I'm mildly worried because it seems to have snuck up on me and I don't feel that I'm in super great riding shape yet and I might embarrass myself by forgetting to ride a bike. But I survived meeting his parents so I can probably survive 50 miles on a mountain bike....


Monday, April 14, 2014

Third Time's The Charm

The first ride on my Rocky wasn't as spectacular as I had imagined, no fireworks. I might have missed them because I was going so fast. I rode in from my house to the shop with only boat shoes on the smallest amount of pedals, and on a men's saddle which really makes the 1.8 miles all that more impressive. 
So Fast!


Sully wanted to do a night ride and since my day off (when I was planning on riding) was two days away, it would be a good chance to ride it and then tweak anything that might need tweaking before I headed out on a longer one. Unfortunately some things at work kept me past the departure time and I didn't feel like playing catch up in the blusterous wind that had awoken. I was able to switch the saddle to a women's specific one which made the ride home so much more enjoyable. 

I knew where I wanted to ride before I consciously knew I did. I decided to ride up Sunshine Canyon to Poorman down to 4mile and then back up to Betasso, do a few laps and then home. It would touch on everything, pavement, gravel, climbing, descending, and singletrack. It's definitely my go to ride
Isn't he a peach!?!
and I seem to end up there more than I should. The ride was pretty uneventful. After raising my seat a few centimeters a block from the house I didn't get off the bike again. The geometry is certainly different from my Superfly and I'm still working through it.

The second ride was about as eventful as the first, I went up a mountain and came down. The third, that's where the bonding really began. I had to get a hitch installed on my car (the things that happen when you finally get a boyfriend who rides bikes....) and figured I would loop a few trails together in
Not the smooth morning cup of coffee trail....
the area. I went up the Argos trail on the Apex system, my aim was a mythical neighborhood that would take me over to another trail system. The trail was much looser and choppier than I remembered (but there was a head injury in between rides so you can't expect much) and not much of my cup of tea. Probably better for the full suspension, but I needed more time on my hardtail as the Whiskey 50 Race is two weeks away (eek!). I knew the other trail would be better so after a few directions at trail forks and my trusty iPhone map to get me through the neighbor I found the trail. Well more of a campsite and I just hoped for the best. I did link up to it and started the descent. I ran into my boss halfway down and about mile or two from where I was going to turn around, he told me to come ride back up with him. It's certainly nice that everyone above me is still riding and immersed in all things bikes. I turned back up behind him and climbed a portion with him. Some techy sections I got, others not so much where I would hop off the bike and run behind him, since he was still talking. 

We split a couple miles up and I continued climbing, he turned back down. I got back through the neighborhood area and then back on the initial trail. Descending felt awkward and irregular, like something wasn't right, but couldn't quiet figure it out and had to get down the hill anyways.

#bruiseeasily
What happened next was the most chaotic crash of my life and it started with the thought...huh, maybe I should have walked this one. The rock that I had headed down had just enough of a kick that I launched forward off my bike. I'm finding that I like the crashes I remember more than the one I
don't (don't worry mom, there is only one I don't remember). There is something surreal and mosaic about being suspending in the air with all your senses heightened, ready, for what is coming next. With that I landed with a thud, and slid down a bit, I had a moment to lie there and assess the damage, but only a moment until my bike came chasing after me and landed with a thwack on
Good thing my roomie is an acupuncturist!
top of me.
Insult to injury at it's finest. At first I thought that I had gotten the wind knocked out of me, because I was having a hard time breathing but then realized the bike had shifted my camelbak and since I ride with my hose running across my upper chest was now being chocked out by my bike with my camelbak hose. I don't even know how these things are even possible! I got up dusted myself off and with more trepidation than before began my descent, again.