My accident occurred around 1130 a.m. in the 2nd week of the Easter holidays 2011, on 18th April 2011, 40 miles from home. It was a training ride with my friend, Neil and we were working well, keeping (or so I thought,) a sensible distance apart.
The weather was perfect for riding, bright, dry and minimal traffic around. The ride was going really well and apart from Neil losing his balance at a junction while clipped in and performing the slow motion, cringe-worthy side ways fall that happens when you don’t unclip quickly enough, we were going well. About 10 miles later, he’d had an unfortunate incident with a bee in his helmet, but had managed to stop safely before getting freed from the stinging insect. So far, I’d been unscathed by this series of unfortunate incidents that were happening to Neil, surely nothing worse could happen today?
It was approaching time for a rest stop, and as well entered a small village in Warwickshire, I shouted to Neil who was having a go up front, “The pub is ahead up here on the left…” My voice must have trailed on the breeze. Up over a small humped back bridge, a thick bushy hedge to our left, then to my unexpected horror, Neil braked and moved to turn left, cutting me up to turn into a dead end cul-de-sac, initially hidden by the hedge. He had thought I had told him to turn left.
My cycle position, nearest the kerb left me nowhere to manoeuvre to with a happy ending. I braked. Harder, I felt the back wheel lift off the floor, “You bassst**d…” The word hurled outwards as my bike continued to rise, my hands gripped rigidly, then my feet unclipped and I was falling. Behind me my bike, only 2 weeks old, a 30th birthday treat came crashing down to earth. Crunch. My airborne flight had ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Pain flooded through my body, radiating from my shoulder and I couldn’t move my left arm. Later inspection of my helmet revealed a crack on the left side where my head must have hit second.
2 first aiders from the offices opposite ran out, an ambulance was called and I waited for the drugs to kick in. I left the scene in an Ambulance; Neil rode his own bike home as fast as he could like a trooper before fetching my bike in the car and coming to join me at the hospital. Amazingly I had not broken a bone, more seriously though; I had broken the ligaments that hold my left collar bone in position that in turn stabilises the shoulder.
At the time of writing this, 3 months have passed and it has been 4 weeks since surgery to stabilise my displaced collar bone. I’ve still not rode, swam or run in that time, in many ways it feels like a lost season but when I look at my cracked cycling helmet, I am grateful that it’s not my life I lost. I’ve got a new helmet already; I bought it about 2 weeks after the crash. It is sat waiting in its box until I am able to ride again. Even the professional’s crash, accidents happen, wearing a helmet is not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength, after all, to quote my Uncle, “You’re not a cyclist until you’ve crashed a few times….”
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