I think it’s an interesting story. Or at least it could be if I tell it right. So, here goes.

Despite my silence  on my blog, I have been very busy in 2010. My new role at work as a project lead is challenging; I’m managing two projects. I’m finishing up my Master’s degree in Educational Technology from SDSU. And I’m fueling my passion for endurance sports by training about 12-15 hours per week. My primary goal this year is to have my peak performances at the long course triathlon distance, or Ironman 70.3. In the midst of all this business, I’ve competed in three races since January, a 5K and two half marathons. In two of these races, I barely missed my personal goals by a margin of about 16 seconds. So I’d say that my running is doing very well. At our recent track time trial, I ran a 6:20 pace over a 2-mile distance.

Even swimming, my nemesis, has improved. I’ve been swimming about 4.5 to 5 miles weekly in the pool for the last three months on my own and as part of a Master’s Swim group with the Escondido Swim Club. My swim pace has steadily dropped. It was about 1:55/100 yards when I first started. And now, I can swim a little faster than 1:38/100 yards. I’ve had my fastest 1.2-mile swim to date at 41:38. The only unknown left to conquer is to find out if I can relax while racing in the ocean and just let the miles of swimming that I’ve been doing take over.

Even though I’m relatively new to serious athletic training, I’ve found my cycling to be my strongest discipline of the three sports. I don’t really have anything to make that determination other than a couple of informal time trial results at Fiesta Island. My fastest prior to this writing was 31 minutes over 20K, which is three large loops around the island, or 12 miles.

Two days ago, one week before my big race (Ironman 70.3 California), I participated in the first time trial of the season with Breakaway Training. Despite being only one week away from the race, Coach Luke said to go for it. My goal: finish the 12 miles in under 30 minutes, which meant that I needed to average greater than 24 mph.

My buddy, Eric and I, started off together. Just as an aside, before the start of the trial, Eric was moaning on and on about how tired he’s been and not feeling well. Just so you know, Eric, I’m on to you buddy! Anyways, I “warmed up” my legs for a hundred yards or so, then Matt took off. And so the chase began. I followed him with the lead group of about five or six others) close behind. For a second or two, I reached speeds of about 29-30 mph to give chase, overtaking the lead for a short time around the first turn where it’s easy to go fast on a slight downhill. The lead group (Matt, Eric, Dave P, Kent, Gary, and one other dude) set the pace, and I followed behind.

I’m not sure if the lead group was forming a paceline. As you know, there’s no drafting in triathlon, but our coaches said drafting was okay for this informal “race”. In any case, I didn’t participate in any rotating off the front, but hung in the back, conserving energy. We rode anywhere from 25-27 mph at any given time. Whenever I thought the group was going too slowly (under 24 mph), I sped up and took the lead. I’m not sure if they liked that or not; the lead group never let me stay too far ahead and always brought me back into the fold.

I like to think that most of the guys (other than the other middle-aged 40-yr old+ athletes) didn’t like some new guy on the block up in the front, especially some 44-year old with gray hair and all, like me. Ha! Most likely, nobody in the group thought about that. I like saying it, though. By the middle of the second lap, I noticed that my buddy Eric had taken a strong position in the lead group.

Although I wasn’t really sure if Eric was truly on his second lap, I decided to surge forward and pass the whole group when we reached the back side of the island. There was a slight headwind, and our group speed had dropped to about 22-23 mph. I was a little agitated by the slow down, so I yelled out: Let’s go. We’re under 24!” Again the lead group brought me to the back of the fold as we came around for our last lap.

Given the few glances at my speedometer over the course of the trial, I knew that I would easily finish in under half an hour. I was sustaining speeds of over 25 mph for the race. My strategy for the last lap was to hang in the back of the group to conserve energy, and then sprint to the finish when it was in sight. I estimate that the sprint would be about 1.25 km long, maybe 45 seconds to 1 minute. At the back of the group, it was effortless. I love that feeling where your legs are pedaling in almost a free spin. Whenever I look at my speedometer at that point, I’m always amazed by how fast I’m going with such little effort.

At the back of the island there were a couple of cars that were riding to far to the right, which slowed us down to about 22 mph. We had to pass them on the left, which was kind of weird. After navigating around another couple of cars, our speed had dropped to about 21 mph. All of a sudden, I saw Eric take off. Matt and a couple of others gave chase. Dave P and I were in the back of the group. I knew in a few moments, the finish would be visible in the distance.

With the finish line in sight, the group spread out. The sprint was on. Dave P and I maneuvered to the left of the road. I glanced down at my watch. 27.3 mph. I looked at the space. I looked at Dave. For a second I hesitated because I was on the edge of the road, very close to the sand. Neither Dave nor I wanted to yield. In that moment of hesitation, Dave took the space and my bike had no choice, but to go in the sand.

In slow motion, I could feel the bike wobble. And then wham! My front wheel turned left at 90 degrees. I yelled, “Oh sh…!”

BAM! My eyes were closed at impact. My face hit the sand. Really, really hard. When I opened my eyes, I knew that my head and face had hit the ground. I sat up for a little bit, and saw my right cleat was still clipped in. I clipped out of the pedal and looked ahead. I saw Dave P looking back at me. Then I laid down on the ground and closed my eyes for a second. I didn’t know what to do. At first I wanted to get back up on my bike and finish, but when I tried to sit up, the pain in my head and chin were overwhelming. For a second I worried that nobody would stop to help me. I had a load of sand in my mouth. I could taste the blood. I wondered if any of my teeth had been knocked out.

Then I heard Dave P’s voice. He had come back to help. I know I had my eyes open, but I didn’t really focus on anything. I heard Dave talking to me. I can’t really remember what he said other than telling me to lie down whenever I would try to sit up. Other voices gathered around. I saw a car stop to help. Dave told some guy to call 911. All I could think about was not letting Maria know that I was hurt because I didn’t want her to miss her cooking class in the afternoon. I had bought her this class as a birthday gift. If I ended up in the emergency room, I knew she would miss the class. I didn’t want her to worry, so as we waited for the paramedics to arrive, I began scheming how I wasn’t going to tell Maria I was hurt until after the class was finished.

I guess a large group had gathered around. I heard some of my fellow Breakaway athletes talking to me. I don’t really remember what I saw and I have no idea why my eyes didn’t focus on anything. I did tell Dave that I was too aggressive. I even managed to say “Stupid Dave. I didn’t want to give in.”

I must have looked like a mess. I think Dave was trying to get me to lie still and stop talking. I don’t know how he remained calm, but it helped me stay as relaxed as I could be possibly be at that moment. My head and chin hurt like hell. Then I heard Adam’s voice. I looked up and saw him. He offered me his water bottle so I could rinse my mouth. I took a swig from the bottle. I think Dave told me to rinse and spit, not sure. But when I did, I spit out a huge amount of bloody water. The crowd around me gasped.

The paramedics arrived in 5 minutes in a fire truck (?). I noticed the paramedics took over, and I no longer heard Dave’s voice. They started asking me a bunch of questions. What happened? How old was I? What medications am I taking? Am I allergic to any medications? Was someone taking my pulse? I couldn’t tell. They told me to respond by saying yes or no, and not to move my head.

I heard Eric’s voice. I think he asked me if I needed my phone. I told him my keys were in my Bento box, and to bring my phone. I had to remember where they were in the car. “They’re in the front in the seat compartment. You have to lift it up.” I forgot to tell him to bring my wallet. Then I remembered my bike. “What about my bike?” The paramedics told me they were going to take care of my bike. Or at least that’s what I thought they said. In my mind I was thinking: “How stupid is that? How are you going to take care of my bike?” And then, I heard Eric or maybe it was Coach Luke tell me they were going to put my bike on the back of my car? Or was it that they were going to put my bike in the back of their car. I was confused and dazed for sure.

The lead paramedic told me they were going to put me on a backboard and put a neck brace on me. “Are you serious?” I think I also told them that I didn’t want that. But they said they had to do it for precautionary reasons until the doctors could determine if I had injured my back or neck. They began taping my legs, arms, and head down to the backboard. God, I hated that brace around my neck. It made me feel worse!

I could hear another big vehicle pull up. I’m assuming it was an ambulance. All I could think about was the $100 copay I would owe for emergency room treatments. As the paramedics were lifting me and sliding me into the ambulance, I was thinking about how I never wanted to ride in an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, John, the lead paramedic, was asking me the same questions again. Then he called in to the hospital to give them my stats, my condition, my medications, allergies, etc. 20 minutes is a helluva long time when you’re wearing a stupid neck brace. I was pulling on it for almost the entire time. That stupid thing was pressing on my chin!

On the way to the hospital, I checked my Garmin. Can you believe it? I wanted to know my race stats:

11.76 miles, 25.3 mph, 27:50.65

I smiled, then turned off my watch.

Later I would learn that I was awarded “Hero of the Day” and given a finishing time of 28:44, the same time as the lead group. How did “not feeling so good today” Eric do? He finished first. I told Eric later: “You’re lucky I crashed. I was coming for you.”

I won’t bore you with the details of the ER. Just check out the pictures.