The Rule of 3

Everyone has heard, and most of us have repeated, the old saying that “bad things come in threes.”

I’m really hoping there is some truth to that, because it means I’m home free. At least for now . . .

Bad Thing #1:
Phil’s crash, the resulting broken ribs and being forced to withdraw from the Leadville 100 MTB race this year.

Bad Thing #2:
While I was eating my lunch outdoors in downtown Denver yesterday afternoon, I was physically assaulted by a mentally ill person.

Honest. I was sitting there, eating my yogurt and raspberries, reading Cooking Light, when she grabbed me from behind and began clawing at my arms and ranting in gibberish.

I was so surprised I didn’t really react. I just calmly told her to let go of me and walk away, because I was calling security. The whole incident probably took 90 seconds to 2 minutes, but was certainly disturbing. My arms are scratched & scraped, but it is all superficial. Weird. And bad.

Bad Thing #3:
Today Phil and I headed out for a 3 hour training ride. The plan was to ride at a fairly easy pace, but get some time in the saddle and miles in my legs – a little, but not too much – the delicate balancing act of a pre-race training taper.

2 blocks into the ride Phil hit a tiny dip in the road and nearly passed out from the pain. He peeled off and I went on (this was not the bad thing).

I had a fantastic ride up Lookout Mountain – it was clear, sunny and about 70 degrees – absolutely perfect riding conditions. At the end of the Lookout Mountain part of my ride I decided to tack on about 40 minutes of riding on the flats in order to flush the lactic acid out of my legs.

The bike path near our house was closed due to construction, so I dropped down onto 44th Avenue and started rolling. 44th has two very tricky railroad crossings – well-known to all the local cyclists. The tracks are not perpendicular to the road, so you have to very careful to turn your bike in such a way that you hit the tracks straight on. Which I thought I did. And obviously did not.

When I came to (Yes. I crashed, hit my head and knocked myself out for some period of time. Probably only seconds, but I really don’t know . . .) a nice man was trying to make me lie still while he checked to see I wasn’t badly hurt.

The next few minutes are vague. The upshot is I have a gash on my elbow, road rash on my hip, the beginnings of a very colorful contusion on my upper thigh, and a new bicycle helmet. (Thanks Matt Holderman – the gift certificate to WRC was very appreciated!!)

Helmet took quite a hit

Brake lever got jacked up, too

My boo boo . . . the only one that is G-rated

I’m fine, just little stiff & sore – nothing that won’t heal in a couple of days.

Let’s all cross our fingers and hope the Rule of 3 holds true.