Training Log Archive: PG

Interesting day. I had been tapering all week (lots of golf, no running) in anticipation of today, the Monroe Dunbar Brook trail race up in the NW corner of the state. It started to rain Friday evening, and it just kept raining, raining hard, for the next 36 hours. Something like 8 to 10 inches. But it stopped about daybreak today, and the WMAC webpage said nothing about canceling the race, though the message board did say that if you tried to cross the brook you'd be dead, and if you tried to use the rickity bridge, well you might be dead. The water was really ripping.

But it seemed the race was on, so off I went. The radio was full of news about flooding in Greenfield and people being evacuated from homes at 1:30 in the morning. but no news about the race. There were a couple of mudslides covering the road at one point, but you have a Subaru for things like that. And once I got there, there was a good crowd, and in fact the water was really ripping.

So they changed the course, still going in the usual clockwise direction over the top of Spruce Mountain and down to South Road, but then we turned right instead of left and hooked up with the way we had come up and went back that way. All of which was fine, and I was actually having a decent day, invigorated by the cool temperatures (about 50). And also feeling quite pleased with myself for a couple of pre-race moves -- I put my contacts on (both eyes, no nead to read a map) instead of wearing glasses so my vision was fine, and I'd tied my shoes on extra tight, so when they got wet, which happened right away (it seemed like we were under water for a lot of the course), the shoes still felt nice and snug, even going downhill.

So I was motoring pretty well, could see fine, shoes were fine, and going down the last steep, rooty, rocky, muddy, stream (oops, trail) at good rate of speed, not as fast as I used to do but moving nicely, when I slipped on something, and then I was airborne head first, and I have a memory of this fallen log right where I was heading and just enough time to think, "Oh, shit," and then wham, I made a direct hit on it with the upper right side of my face. I can't remember if I also had time to think, "I'm going to break my neck," or whether that was after the fact thinking I was lucky I hadn't.

I don't know what it feels like to get hit in the head by a baseball bat, but it can't be much different. I get myself up, hand up to the face, and it's full of blood, wipe it off, hand back to the face, it's full of blood again. Eyesight seems ok out of the left eye at least, the right one is a little blurry but I think it's just the blood. No other immediate damage. Since there is no alternative, back to the trail and finish the course, trying to keep some pressure on whatever I've done to my face to slow the bleeding. Fortunately there is little more than a mile left, and I am soon done.

They did a fine job at the finish, cleaning and patching me up, and not letting me look in the mirror ("You really don't want to look,") and then a friend drove me to the emergency room in Greenfield. Despite all the patching, the bleeding hadn't stopped, which I thought might help get me faster service at the ER. Which I thinhk it did, though I still spent 3 hours there, including quite a long time that it took the doctor to sew me up -- 40 stitches, 8 down inside the wound, 32 on the outside -- and then x-rays to see if anything in my head was broken. When they came back negative, Gail could finally take me home. Though not before I reminded the doc that I still had a contact in that eye. He figured he'd better get it out (for which they have ahandy little tool that is basically a teeny suction cup with a handle). But just getting my eye open far enough to get access to the contact was, well, let's say the doc said afterwards he enjoyed the sound effects.

If you've made it this far, then one warning, this photo is not for sensitive eyes.

C • 30