I get knocked down, but I get up again

So I had a bit of a mishap at the Tour de White Rock road race this past Sunday and, at the request of my friends in the peloton, I promised I would share the story. After 10 days of fast, technical, scary crit racing without incident, I somehow managed to get myself run over by a car two laps into the very last race of BC Superweek…….because clearly my life was lacking excitement, challenge and adversity.

The race started off without incident. Everyone was tired from a long block of racing, the big teams had left to prepare for Cascade, and the scorching heat combined with soul crushing climbs was definitely making the peloton think twice about lighting it up. It was going to be a long and hard enough race without throwing punches in the opening kilometers. We were coming along the coast on lap two when the excitement started. The bunch was all together coming down a bit of a roller when suddenly a car pulled out in front of us.

Now, crisis may have been avoided but it was one of those times where everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong. First problem: rather than accelerating, the driver stopped when he saw us, approximately 40 women, flying towards him at race speed. Second problem: the driver, best intentions I’m sure, tried to get out of our way by turning left…..directly into the path of our evasive maneuver around the vehicle. Third problem: I was second or third wheel on the right outside of the peloton. You know that saying “between a rock and a hard place”? Well, I was between a peloton and a car.

There was no where to go and not enough time or space to stop. I got the familiar you’re-about-to-almost-die metallic taste in my mouth and everything slowed down. Evolutionary theory suggests that this perceived slow motion is a survival tactic where the mind slows the processing of sensory information to give the body time to prepare and protect itself. How cool is that? The whole thing was probably over in seconds, but it seemed like an eternity. Trying to protect my chest and face, I twisted to the left to take the impact with my right shoulder and hip. I heard the thud of my thigh hitting metal and for a moment was stupidly optimistic.

This isn’t so bad! I am totally not going to go down! I’m just gonna lean into the car, slow down and put my foot down. No problem!

Haha….riiiiiiight. Wrong. At this point my right hip had also made contact with the side of the car and I had reached the side view mirror, which just happened to be perfectly aligned with the front of my bicep. Another thump, the sound of glass shattering and next thing I know I’m flat on my back on the road in front of the car.

The sun seemed way too bright, burning white hot, and I put my arm up to cover my face. My ears were ringing and everything sounded like I was underwater. My chin started throbbing a bit and there was thick, bright red blood everywhere. My first thought was “Oh $h!t I knocked my teeth out”. Quick inventory: all my teeth were still there. Ok, I’m all good. I got up, still hazy from the impact and the adrenaline, and struggled to decide between (a) punching the guy in the car and (b) chasing back into the race. I decided to get back in the race while shouting an impressive assortment of colorful profanity at the driver. My apologies, violence and profanity are not  normally my go-to responses.

There were several people trying to help me, make sure I was okay, give me my bottles, fix my bike, get me medical attention but all I could think was that the gap to the peloton was getting bigger and bigger and I had to get back on my bike. Both shifters were bent in, and both brakes were twisted into my rims but it was still working. Thanks to the adrenaline still pumping through me, nothing hurt and I chased back onto the group in a flat out sprint. They had sat up, slowing down to give me a chance to catch up, so I was back in the bunch in no time. I knew I should sit in the draft, catch my breath, recover but I was still shaking with adrenaline so I lead it over the climb, took the descent at mach1 and didn’t sit up until my nerves were back under control.

It wasn’t until several laps later that I started really feeling the impact of what had happened. My chin felt like it was getting bigger by the second, the skin stretched uncomfortably tight, a headache was starting and my arm was throbbing. Only a couple more laps to go. Suck it up. I forced myself to focus on nothing but the wheel in front of me as I fought my way up the climb again. Shut it all out and focus, force the poker face, breathe.

Denise, Alison and  Maria had about a 30 second lead on Megan and I and we were now halfway through the last lap. It was now or never. I forced my legs to spin faster, then started shifting down into smaller and smaller cogs. Rounding the corner into the last descent I could see the lead three now only a couple hundred meters in front of us. Megan on my wheel, I spun out my biggest gear, tucked low on my bike and tore down the descent closing the gap and setting up Megan to take the win just moments later.

I got off my bike, which was immediately taken by a volunteer, and was lead to the paramedics to get the glass out of my arm. Cleaned and bandaged up it was definitely Beer o’clock. What a day! Finishing that race probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done but I’m glad I did. I remembered what Marianne Vos had said to me in the spring: “I never quit a race because then the next time it will be easier to quit. You always have to get back on your bike”. She was right, of course. Over the six laps following the accident I had worked through the pain and fear and doubt and desire to quit. I had finished strong and confident.

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So why did I help Megan win? That’s a question a lot of people have asked me and there’s quite a few reasons. First, I was pretty sure that I could not beat Denise or Maria in the condition that my bike and I were in so, knowing that I couldn’t win myself, I needed to decide who I wanted to help out.

What people forget is that, even though we are on different teams and competing against each other, we all have friends in the peloton. Megan and I are from the same city, race the local races together and meet up for the occasional coffee shop spin. Furthermore, our riding styles really compliment each other so we both benefit from working together during races where our teams aren’t there (there’s no way I would have made it over those last few climbs without her). We had successfully worked with each other in several races over the past year and she had actually asked me the night before if I would work with her in the White Rock road race.

Perhaps the biggest motivation in helping out Megan was knowing that this race was important to her. I knew from past conversation that she really wanted to win this race so why not help her. Obviously we all want to win but for Megan this was a target race and I know that if the tables were turned she would do the same for me. For Megan’s account of the race check out the official race report: http://tourdewhiterock.ca/news/

“It’s awesome, this was one of my main goals this year, to win this race,” an ecstatic Rathwell added. “I don’t do a lot of racing, I just race locally so I’m really happy to come here and win, it was really important to me.”

In closing, I would like to thank everyone for all their concern and assistance. From the people who came to help me immediately following the accident to the paramedics who patched me up at the finish, thank you! I was especially humbled by the peloton; the number of riders that asked me if I was okay, that offered me bottles, that let me set the pace up the first few climbs after, that sent me texts or facebook messages in the days following. One rider even offered me her bike to finish the race on. It was such an incredible display of sportsmanship. Thank you.

So now on to the process of recovery. As much as I want to get back out there right away I need to take it easy for a bit, listen to my body and give it a chance to heal. See you all soon!

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