This takes some time with only one (left) hand, so here are first of all some pictures of the adventure in the Black Forest, and how not-boring it was…
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Biking Log – 20090621
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Ready To Go
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Dream Landscape
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Black Forest UBM 2
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Black Forest UBM 1
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Black Florest Ultra Bike Marathon – 75km
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Hum…
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Broken and Scratched
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Nice Bra, Man Boobs?
It started by being a rather interesting experience in a beautiful hotel in Freiburg. I knew it was expensive but I didn’t anticipate my family priorities and I ended up having the most expensive dinner of my life… but I’ll survive.
On Saturday morning after a luxurious (and again really expensive) breakfast (champagne included) we headed to Kirchzarten for the registration and for a light ride. All went smooth and the feeling was really good about the whole event. I put in an hour of spinning and we went to check the sponsor tents and the Saturday races. It was nice and quiet without much fuss, but it smelled like mountain bike racing through the whole city.
We sticked around for the Pasta-Party and immediately headed back to the hotel in Freiburg for a swim and bed. Yes, I went swimming, I’m sure it doesn’t count as training for triathlon but I could prove to myself I am (probably) able to swim more than 5 seconds…
Race Day! Woke up the whole team at 5h30 and we were on our way to a great day. We had breakfast at the event site and I was ready to start just before 7h30.
I was pretty relaxed and had it all planned in my head. I knew I had done my homework even though not pushing enough on the bike I had complemented it with a lot of runs, so there I was and there I went, off to a great adventure!
Is far as I had remembered from the last 56km race, I had pushed too much on the first climbs and this time I had a new approach. I started really easy, warming up, and at the first climb I was steady and strong and kept it on to the top.
A good pace on the lower ring and always keeping it at an aerobic level made my way up all the climbs and this time I was able to pass a lot of people not only on the insanely fast downhills but also on the climbs, which were the most of the racing time. Great strategy based on a lot of training, I was really happy and confident on a good result.
After 35kms I thought it was going really well and pushed it over the highest mountain putting a good sustained pace on climb an over the top to the downhills up until the 55km marker.
Now, the first difficulty. I suppose due to the cold, I started having this pain in my left groin/testicle at every pedal push, this went on for 10kms and I started lowering my pace and having a really hard time keeping it up on the climbs. Since I was trying to maintain a high cadence it was that much unpleasant and by the 73km control/refuel zone I had to stop and was starting to see a big challenge to make it to the end.
I had done pretty much all the climbing, just this last one in front of me and then glory… I had stopped briefly at the two first checkpoints but at the third I took my time and at this last one I was in major pain and took a good 5 minutes until deciding to go on. I was looking so hurt that my wife told me It would maybe be better to quit, but I just didn’t understand what that word meant, so, I took a deep breath, kissed them both and said: “I’m finishing this, even if I have to run to the line…”.
Off to the last big climb the weather open up and the sun was shining, this brought some heat to my legs and warmed up my “trouble zone” and made the pain go away, good, I focused on the cadence and was back at the original pace when I reached the top of this first climb.
Biking Log - 20090621
This last massive climb had a small downhill section after the tarmac uphill and I saw the fireman truck at my left with all the guys sitting on the floor sun-bathing. I remember clearly thinking: “So, nothing to do hey. That’s really good news!!”, if I only knew…
It happened really fast.
I replayed it over and over again in my head for the past week and I still can’t be sure about what happened.
After having reached an incredible 65km/h speed on some previous downhill sections I managed to fall at 30km/h, completely alone on a two-track gravel road. I’m pretty sure I was feeling ok after the climb and I think I went to get a bottle off my back pocket with my left hand when the front tyre slid to the right from under my weight, I reacted fast and tried to compensate turning to the left but I was off-balance and as the bike fell to the left unable to get over the middle of the road I flew over the handlebars and landed very hard on my head and rolled to hit the ground with all the momentum crushing my right shoulder and loosing my breath.
I am training hard to be a mountain biker...
As I was flying over the bars I was already thinking: “No! No!”, and after landing and while gasping for air I though it could not be, I was feeling so good and heading to the final hill climb and I would have had made it “easily”.
Lying on the floor, overlooked by some guys that had stopped to help, I was having trouble breathing, I couldn’t pump air into my right lung and I had a very sharp pain in my right shoulder. I tried moving my arm but it didn’t feel right and the movement was very limited and painful. At this time I had to make a choice, a tough one, and decided to head back up to the (previously mentioned) fireman truck, I told the guys (half in German, half in English) they should go on and I would take my bike and go to the firemen truck. I did try sitting on the bike and putting my hands on the handlebars was just impossible, I had this unbearable pain in my shoulder and it was looking very “not normal” with a huge bump and all bloody (I could see it through the shredded shirt). I felt it up after the firemen helped me take my shirt off and I knew something was really wrong, broken or out of place, I started realizing my race was done.
It hit me like a slap on the face and I quickly saw all the training from before going down the drain and all the time I would have to loose while recovering from this. I felt like crying. I almost did.
I was later seen by a doctor at the spot and I was sent to the hospital in Freiburg for x-rays.
As I was at the hospital, lying on the stretcher waiting for my turn for the x-rays I almost cried. It was too much to process, the fall, the ambulance, watching the ceiling lights while helplessly being pushed on the stretcher and now the silence, the wait and the pain… I pictured all the training hours I had lost and all that I would still have too loose, I thought how I had failed not reaching the line and hugging my girls as promised and very much awaited… I almost lost it. But I didn’t!
I slowly accepted the pain and the fact that I could now do nothing but recover as quickly as possible and we drove back home.
A full week as now gone by, I feel somewhat better but still in passive recovery. It took me one week to write this but then again I still can’t put on a T-Shirt or pull my trousers up, or…, or…
It takes time, I know. It is hard, I (now!) know. But broken bones are nothing when one endures endless hours of pain, running, biking (and eventually swimming), and loves every second of it!