Good Bye Blue Mondays: Injured in action at the Tour of Somerville

Of the thing I broke this weekend, my car's antenna may have the greatest lasting effect on my life, because I don't see myself getting it fixed anytime soon -- even though the antenna motor, trying to retract the broken aerial, makes a really annoying noise. Also like other things I broke, the car's antenna didn't break intentionally. Unfortunately, of things I broke this weekend, the antenna has already proven to be less painful.

You see, the other thing I broke (or, at least, badly damaged) is my right wrist.

While racing the Tour of Somerville earlier today I was involved in one of a few pile ups. Although I popped right up from the crash (which may or may not have been caused by someone coming out of their pedal on the long, uphill homestretch), when I went to change gears on the way to the pit, I found that pushing again the shift lever caused excruciating pain.

"No problem," I thought. "I'll put it in the 16 and keep racing."

I did just that when I got to the pit, and after straightening my mangled saddle I was set to jump back into the race. Unfortunately, I couldn't even grasp the right lever hood, let alone hang onto it the way you need to in order to generate any kind of power. I made it about four pedal strokes before coasting to the side of the road and retiring from the race. In all, I raced for about 20 minutes.

Which, I feel compelled to point out, is longer than I raced at the Tour of Somerset hills on Saturday, when badly skipping gears killed my race before we even made it through the neutral roll out. What a great weekend. Probably the worst race experience since Fitchburg in 2008. In retrospect, I'm very glad I did the Derby on Sunday, where I was third behind Kuklis and Jackie Simes. Without that, this weekend would be nothing more than a bummer of a story about failed attempts at racing.

What I don't understand is how 120 guys can race safely though tight turns at 30+ miles per hour -- and somehow manage to crash on the straightaway. Argh.

Anyhow, I'm sitting here with ice on my softball-sized wrist planning an early-morning trip to the ER. Typing is fairly painful, even with all the ibuprofen in my system, so I'm going to call that a blog post, and present you with some bloody photos:

Somerville is known for having lots of crashes
I took this photo shortly after arriving
I thought the preparedness was funny

I posted the photo on facebook
This may have sealed my fate
The ambulance was staffed by keystone EMTs

This was my second-bloodiest crash
Even so, the pain in my wrist is distracting me from everything else
I don't even really feel that banged up, aside from the wrist, of course

The chain ring (not mine) that bit my ankle created the most impressive of the wounds
It was also the least painful
I didn't even notice it until someone else pointed it out

My right knee
Is torn up
But there's no inflammation

The key stone EMTs were really excited to use all their toys on me
Here's the splint they fashioned for me
I wore it for 20 minutes, until it was time to take off my jersey

I'll spare you the photo of the road rash on my hip and ass. Just know that this was the bloodiest crash I've had since 2009. It's also the first time I've broken a bone while racing (or otherwise) since 2006. This one, though, may prove to be the first injury that takes me off the bike for any amount of time -- or at least relegates me to the rollers, which, in June, is the same thing.