Last evening I stopped by to visit with my Tuesday night ride group, out of Race Pace in Columbia . (They had a great turnout, by the way. it looked like there were nearly 30 riders!)
I wanted to say "hi!", and use the friendliness to help lift my spirits. It's no secret and no surprise that I have been feeling depressed since my injury. The weather is spectacular, and last year at this time I was routinely riding 40+ miles two and three days a week.
One of the guys (he races for Kelly's) rode up and told me that he saw my accident.
I nearly fell over (again).
"Really?' I exclaimed, "tell me what the hell happened!"
He told me that we were approaching the line (he was on the sidelines watching the finish), three across (just as my memory tells me), and that the guy on my right (the one who went down with me) "crossed over into you for no clear reason. You touched wheels, then you went over the bars."
So. There it is...
I was still in my line, and the other guy crossed over.
I slept very well last night (thank you very much) knowing that it was not something that I did to cause the accident.
I knew it was bothering me, but I didn't realize that I was troubled by it.
Now I know.
Next year, I'm winning that race...
...and it won't be in a sprint.
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