Well, my first race of the season was also likely my last (race of the season). A split second bad decision, and I'm on the disabled list. Here are the gory details:
It was lightly raining when I woke up on Saturday morning. I am not a great bad weather racer, but I figured it was time to get things going for the season, so I loaded everything up and headed to Fort Lewis for a sprint triathlon. As I was setting up, it started raining heavier and heavier. I figured it was not a PR kind of day, so I would take it easy on the bike turns. There were numerous friends at the race, and I think we all had the same "misery loves company" mentality.
For the first time in a very long time, I didn't get into the water at the swim finish and swim over to the start. Instead, I walked over to the start, and got a few quick strokes in before I lined up to wait. My swim was not very good, as I was having a hard time swimming a straight line. As I made the first turn, I nearly swam into the person in front of me, who came to a complete stop at the buoy to sight the next buoy. I swam around that person and pressed onwards, zigzagging my way (going to have to work on swimming straight, I thought). As I made the turn for home, I looked up and saw that there was nothing to sight off. For some reason, the usual inflatable archway was not up. After spending some time figuring out where to go, I headed back to shore.
Running into transition (which had been moved for the first time in over 15 years), I noticed a couple of friends getting ready to head out on bikes. I couldn't get my wetsuit off (my new Xterra suit has some snug arm and leg holes), so my transition was slow. I also made the decision before the race to put on my cycling shoes in transition rather than on the bike. Since it was early in the season, my transition skills were a bit rusty, so I figured that it would be faster and less problematic to put on my shoes first. The bike was hard, as it was raining steadily; I was happy that I decided to put on arm warmers (that decision was one of the few good ones I made on Saturday as you will later see). I started reeling in people and headed for the turnaround, feeling that I was working pretty hard for the speed that I was going; obviously, the lack of training was showing. As I approached the underpass, the leaders passed by going the opposite direction. I counted myself to be in 8th, and very cautiously went around the roundabout (turnaround). I then picked it up to try to catch as many people as I could. After passing a couple more people, I got passed; this was a bit surprising, as it has been a long time since I've been passed on the bike.
Heading into one of the last turns, I was approaching the 5th place cyclist. I went into the turn with too much speed for the conditions of the day, and my bike slid out from under me. It happened so fast that I didn't have time to put my arm down and landed on my right shoulder. As I was lying there, I realized that my right shoulder was really sore. I spent a few minutes on my back, and a fellow competitor stopped to try to help me. I assured him that I was fine, and that he should get back into the race, since there was a road guard there to help me anyway. I sat up in a bit of a daze, with my right shoulder hurting and my right hip and foot a bit sore. Finally, I stood up... at which point I became pretty nauseated and started shivering pretty bad. That's when I knew that I was hurt more than just some bumps and bruises. I started feeling my shoulder and could feel that there was something not quite right. I decided that I needed to get back to the transition area somehow, and since it was only a couple of miles, I'd ride back. As I mounted my bike, I could grip the handlebars with both hands, so I was hopeful that, maybe I was just banged up since a broken clavicle would make it really hard to hold on (a bit prescient as you will see later). I rode slowly back to transition. As I shifted to an easier gear, I noticed some blood on the aerobar tape; I looked down and saw that my right hand was cut and bleeding a bit. Oh well. I rolled towards the dismount line, and people started yelling, "Dismount." I thought, "Not a chance." I figured that if I stopped and tried to get off my bike, I'd fall over and block other people's way. So, I ignored them and rolled to a stop in transition. Bruce came over to check on me (he was working at the race), and I told him that I thought I had broken my clavicle. At this point, I was shivering nearly uncontrollably, so he took me into the lifeguard shack where several people gave me towels to stay warm and turned on the heat. Dave Robbins and Dave Chipchase came in to see how I was doing, and I told them I thought I had broken my clavicle or separated my shoulder. After Dave R. looked at my shoulder, he agreed that he thought my clavicle was broken.
After Dave R. and Bruce helped me bring my stuff back to the car (after watching me unsuccessfully gather my stuff), I headed home to get cleaned up and figure out how to reassess the damage. I headed off to the Auburn ED to see my best friend, who was working there. The x-rays told the story: displaced right clavicle fracture.
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