When It Happens To You

Wulp, it happened. I got hit by a car while biking. And it wasn't a tag (I've had two mirror tags :-) But this was a full blown hit from someone that was not looking and never slowed down.

I feel like I should be at a Bikers Car Accident Anonymous meeting when I say it: "I got hit by a car while biking". Its not easy to say. Should I be ashamed? After all, one of the biggest pet peeves of many drivers is sharing the road with cyclists. We are rather crazy to think that the relationship of bikes and cars on the same road can be "friendly". I mean, cyclists are working to obtain the lightest and most aerodynamic of rides and motorists, especially in our area, are acquiring the fastest or biggest and baddest of rides. Even with all precautions taken should we, as cyclists, really trust the "larger" of our road-sharers to be aware, pay attention and control their thousands of pounds of forces with those that we cyclists would prefer to weigh in grams? As a cyclist and driver, I'd be the first to say that not a day goes by when I'm driving my vehicle that I could account visually for every yard I've gone down the road. And as a cyclist, that is now a super scary thought - the difference between life and death.

At that BCAA meeting, there would probably also be that "sigh" of confession, not "relief", but with the feeling of getting something over that you have been told is almost inevitable. "It happened. I got hit." That look you see in your parents and kids faces when you leave on a bike ride and they say "Be Careful" and you know they're thinking "I hope today's not the day you get hit by a car." Of course, the reality is that when you have been hit and live to write and tell about it, there's that surreal feeling, the blurry memory of only a split second in time. A second where a day goes from completely ordinary, doing what you love, loving what you do, something you've done for thousands and thousands of miles, that may now potentially change the rest of your life.

For many people, this moment does completely change their life, as they aren't given the opportunity to walk away from it. I've read their stories, I've donated to their causes, I've wept over their obituaries.

But now, praising God, I walked away. The humbling question is "why"?

It was about 8:45 Sunday morning and Steve and I had planned to drive into Austin to meet up with the Jack and Adam's clan to do the group ride. Word had it they were going 35-50 and I needed to ride a pretty hard 60 mile interval getting ready for 70.3 World Championships in two weeks. With that in mind we opted for just riding alone, leaving our house at dawn and heading to flatter terrain up toward Avery Ranch and Parmer. We typically prefer riding Sunday mornings because traffic is lighter than any other day of the week. However, being on the brink of the daylight savings time change, it hasn't been bright enough to leave until 7:30 or so which gives us a later start and a bit more traffic - the church rush hour.

We left the house and headed up the road and opted to go through some neighborhoods to stay off 620 where the shoulder no longer existed and where it would be "safer". We wrapped around through a neighborhood, crossed 620 into another neighborhood and went about 2 blocks. A stop sign was on our right and we both watched a driver approach it, making sure his eyes met ours and he came to a complete stop before we went in front of him at his stop sign. We had probably braked a bit to about 20 mph at that point. Steve had just slowed a tad to grab a couple gulps of "breakfast" EFS gel so fortunately there was a little distance between the two of us. Once I saw the man's eyes on my right look at me at the stop sign I readjusted my view to the front of me - but to my left there was a car turning directly into me. I think my mind thought she was going to stop - because why WOULDN'T someone stop?? But there was no hesitation - she was turning right into me - fast. It truly happened so quickly that there was no time to think, react or respond. I think my "flinch" reflex made me turn my bars a bit to the right and lower my shoulder slightly, but there was no time to process or react. I'm giving thanks that she was in a low profile car because it sent me up and over and kept me from going under the vehicle and getting run over.

I only remember the sight of the car "right there" about to hit me and thinking about the bumper of the car which sat at the stop sign almost immediately to my right. I remember not really thinking...there wasn't time. But words, not thoughts, fired through my mind: "car, hit, me? they'll stop, no?" I don't remember anything after that but the crushing sound of my body hitting the hood of the car - it sounded more like a car wreck. I had taken the bumper on my left glute, shoulder and head, then cartwheeled onto her hood and windshield, flew up into the air, back flipped into the sky, and then landed head and neck first into the pavement by the front bumper of the guy at the stop sign (who according to Steve had saucer size white eyes by this time.) When I came down on my head and neck, my feet landed toes first into the pavement over my shoulders (thank goodness for Body Flow!) As Steve later said, it "was not an excellent gymnast landing". My bike ejected when I hit her and flew into the front of the car of the poor man at the stop sign, then flipped up over his car and came down on his trunk. Cringe. Consequences of front row seating. My right bike shoe never came off the bike, thus the "burning" sensation of that foot as my toes landed tips first into the pavement as I landed head first and butt up falling out of the sky.

I was knocked out - briefly; it is the amazing subconsciousness of the human body that blocks out those things which should be left unknown. I "came to" on the other side of the car, on the pavement, by the bumper of the innocent man's car waiting at the stop sign. I was in a very calm, fetal-like state, lying on my left side with left hand up holding on to the top of my helmet. My heart rate monitor profile later showed my heart rate went from a riding peak of 113 to an immediate 60 BPM on the next second. Is that a statement of how our bodies shut down and relax in preparation for trauma? I believe it, because there was a calmness, a silence, a peace that surrounded me as I began to come to my senses and awaken to the situation.

First instinct: gently move your fingers and toes and pray for a response. Check. But serious burning in my right foot - and my neck. Talking out loud to myself, knowing I'd just passed the finger and toe test, I vocalized "My Neck" as it burned and already began throbbing. Since I'd cartwheeled onto the hood and then flew up into a back flip off the other side of the car, Steve couldn't see me and my guess was he was quite busy in "self-preservation" mode himself, as he had been riding only feet behind me and had to brake, swerve and avoid the whole situation. Thus, his first awareness of me being "alive" was hearing me say "My Neck, my neck". Not what your husband wants to hear when he's frantically trying to get between cars, overcome what he's witnessed, and find you in the carnage.

Steve's always been my rock - and of course was in this situation. He took my head, planted his knees beside me into the incredibly rough sealed rock road, and I heard him sternly tell someone "don't touch her, don't move her" and "get my phone out of the back pocket of my bike jersey". Little did I know until later, he was talking to the shaken up lady that had just run into me - she hadn't seen a thing, never slowed down, just kept on turning, unknowing. (Please pray for her.) We've been asked if she was on her phone. I don't know - but it doesn't matter, does it? Distractions comes in all shapes and sizes and paying attention in a car needs to happen in a minimum of 180 degree angles. She got Steve's phone, then the innocent man who witnessed the whole "yard sale" at the stop sign got out of his car and said, "I'm already on it - I called 911 as soon as she landed" - and you could hear him giving the call attendant details of each of my responses. In moments a sweet, nicely dressed woman in a skirt (and panty hose ;-) got to her knees beside me - she was probably headed to church, because why else would these people look so good at 8:45 on a Sunday morning?? "I'm a nurse," she said. "Here, sir, let me hold her head for you." Within another minute a clean cut, nicely dressed man kneels down beside me, "I'm a nurse" he says, "And a pastor." I immediately saw the light of God in the situation. They both helped Steve attend to me and simultaneously began praying over me. Thank you, God.

EMT's were there within 8 minutes (I was told ;-), more finger and feet tests and then poking and prodding of my hips, pelvis, abdomen, legs and feet...nothing. Really? Not a thing? I was event surprised. But my neck was still "on fire" so on with the C-collar, med tape around the head and backboard. "You know, if you'd give me just a moment I think I can sit up and assess how I'm feeling," I tell them. Knowing my neck is burning and my right foot is feeling very warm and "burny" as well, I'm still not sure what kind of damage I'm feeling. On a scale of 1-10 I tell the EMT, "I'm at a 2", knowing I really should be hurting or broken somewhere. Really, a 2, I asked myself? Yup. 2. I ask him, "If I have a neck injury, am I going to know it by pain or can it be silent?" "Let's get you out of the street and we'll assess a little more in the ambulance."

When Steve gets to the ambulance the EMT tells him that any car/cycling accident of that magnitude should be transported to the nearest trauma center. Steve agrees and later I'm glad I went.

To make a long story shorter, by 12:30 I'd been scanned and x-rayed and released to go home. As sore as I got within 8 hours, it was good to know nothing was broken. Miracle. Simply a miracle.

Accidents like that leave interesting "marks" - and several days of new ones appearing. My bike and helmet totaled (thank goodness for the helmet; anyone that rides without one is not thinking about what can happen outside their control). My left bike shoe cracked from landing toes first - but glad to have had it on. My body is faring well...lots of pain in spine, neck and head...the fourth bump popped up on my head today. My right shoulder seems to have a slight separation in it. My right knee has road rash (and lucky for me I didn't slide because that road was like a cheese grater!), my right thumb was smashed, my quads are equally swollen and bruised from ejecting through my profile bars, my pointer fingers on each hand have identical cuts from being pulled off my brake hoods, my right foot has scratches from being forcefully pulled out my bike shoe without the velcro breaking away and my right big toe severely bruised from spearing into the pavement over my shoulder without a shoe on it, my ear is cut from landing on it with the bike helmet impact....and random little cuts and bruises in other places.

But nothing, truly nothing compared to what it could have been. Which leads me to question, Why? Why me? Why that day? WHY did I walk away? Was it even about me or was it about another life that was touched by that incident? And if it wasn't about me, what can I take away from it to apply to me? What do you do when you're life is spared, when you walk away from something that could have changed your life forever or killed you? I know I won't ever have the answers to some of those questions, but if I don't ask myself the important questions, I'm not embracing the reality and allowing it to empower me to grow to a higher level.

So thank you, God. For giving.

And thank you, Steve. For loving.

xo