Had a bit of a painful experience over the weekend.
On Saturday morning, Lachlan and I woke up to a glorious day and decided to act on our previous resolution to head down to Floriade before church. It was the opening day, and while we were not expecting many flowers to be out, we thought it was worth a peek, seeing we are so close.
As the day had turned out so nicely-it was 17 degrees at 7am-we decided to follow through on our other resolution: to ride our bikes there. A very Canberran thing to do!
We got into our riding clothes, and I noticed the holes in Lachlan's riding shirt from his fall earlier in the year. Leaving our cat forlornly in the window, we set off on the ten minute road-ride to the park.
One of the great features of Canberra is its cycleways. All major arterial roads (that I know of) have at least a marked cycle lane (a lane, not a piddly little line like in Sydney) with many having an off road tar-sealed bike paths.
We got on to Northbourne Avenue and went around the big roundabout. We watched some more serious riders head off down towards Commonwealth bridge, and we headed the same direction at a respectable 30km/hr.
Coming down toward the turn-off onto the bike path that heads up into the park, I noticed that the traffic lights had turned red and there were cars accross the bike lane.
These traffic lights are a special feature of Floriade, as the main parking area for the festival is accross the 6-lane road. The turn off into Commonwealth park (for cars) is normally just a left hand turning lane that crosses the cycle path, but as the lights are placed before the turn can be executed, two cars had (seemingly at the last minute) decided that rather than wait to turn, they would pull accross the bike path.
I decided that slowing down was a good idea and so lightly pulled back on my front brakes. Or so I thought...
The next thing I knew, my bike had stopped and I was hurtling forward. I must have closed my eyes because I don't remember seeing the tar come closer, but I did hear my helmeted head bounce on the surface. I opened my eyes and started crying out. For a minute I thought I had broken a rib, but quickly realised I was just badly winded.
I've never been so badly winded before, I couldn't seem to get any oxygen, or stop the groans. Lachlan pulled my bike off the road and picked up the visor part of my helmet which had snapped off.
I wanted to get up, but could not. Lachlan didn't try to drag me, which was a smart move, as he had no idea if I'd injured my neck or back, he actually thought I had broken my arm as I was gripping my shoulder (I'd landed on it). One of the first things you learn in any kind of first aid training is to not move someone who might have a neck of spine injury.
So there I was, crying out in pain in the cycle lane. I was just starting to get my wits together when a few cars came driving past. At this point, someone felt it important to wind down their window and yell out "get off the road!"
Thanks, so much. I really needed that to be pointed out. I wondered (later) what they thought I had been doing? Having a nap? Relaxing on the road...? I also wondered if they thought at all about whether I was hurt. I wondered if they would yell that to someone who had been in a car accident. I could understand it more if I was blocking traffic, but I was still inside the bike lane...
In complete contrast to this rather unfriendly reaction, some pedestrians came running a few seconds later as I started to drag myself up the gutter (they had obviously heard my moans of pain...) And asked (in quick succession) "Are you alright, are you hurt? Do you need us to call an ambulance?" And then (maybe they too had heard my heckler) "Did a car hit you!?"
This made me smile. It was nice of them not to assume that it wasn't my fault. I tried to explain that I was ok, that it was just touchy brakes. They looked mostly convinced and walked up to the park entrance.
After sitting for a while, we slowly peddled up to some bike racks, and I took off my gloves to discover that my wedding ring was missing. I quickly remembered that I had been moisturising my hands the night before and tried to convince myself that my ring was beside the bed (which it was). I checked out my throbbing knees and noticed some nice looking abrasion marks which impressed me (blood without tearing the fabric is pretty cool).
We had a look at the flowers and then rode home - without incident.
At church that day I spoke to one of my parishioners who had fallen off her bike at a similar speed earlier in the year. She didn't hit the pavement - she met a tree, and broke both wrists and her cheek bone. She still has not got full use of her hands, months later.
I'm feeling pretty thankful that I didn't end up in hospital. I have only been left with a few sore spots: My right shoulder is red and grazed (again, no fabric damage), I have a braise (Lachlan's term for a bruise and graze in the same spot) on the right side of my chin, bruises on the heels of my hand and braises on the tops of my knees. This all makes sense as I landed on my right side - hitting shoulder first and then bouncing my head.
What I couldn't figure out is the large bruise on my left thigh. Lachlan thinks I may have hit the edge of my handle bars, and with its perfectly round shape, I'm inclined to agree.
The sore spot that is causing the most trouble is my bruised rib. There is nothing to show for it, but every cough and laugh reminds me to be more careful next time, and always make sure to always squeeze both brakes!
