I was rolling through the finish chute of the Ironman 70.3 San Juan on my cherry red Kestrel road bike, smiling at the crowds lining the final few meters to the transition area, when I felt my bike slip out from under me. The next thing I remember is lying on the ground, one leg wedged under my bike, a spectator rushing to my side to help me up while a volunteer shouted that no outside assistance was permitted. Rising to my feet, I surveyed the damage: bike looked fine and I could stand upright without pain which meant nothing was broken. I had a few cuts on my legs but nothing that would require immediate attention. “Walk your bike into transition, then walk the first bit of the run course until you feel steady,” the race volunteer suggested. If he didn’t think my situation was dire, I must not look too terrible.So off I went.
Share this post
Exploring Our Physical Limits
Share this post
I was rolling through the finish chute of the Ironman 70.3 San Juan on my cherry red Kestrel road bike, smiling at the crowds lining the final few meters to the transition area, when I felt my bike slip out from under me. The next thing I remember is lying on the ground, one leg wedged under my bike, a spectator rushing to my side to help me up while a volunteer shouted that no outside assistance was permitted. Rising to my feet, I surveyed the damage: bike looked fine and I could stand upright without pain which meant nothing was broken. I had a few cuts on my legs but nothing that would require immediate attention. “Walk your bike into transition, then walk the first bit of the run course until you feel steady,” the race volunteer suggested. If he didn’t think my situation was dire, I must not look too terrible.So off I went.